


re:BOOT

by SweetTeaholic



Series: re:BOOT Series aka SweetT's Post Predacons Rising Gay AU [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dealing With Lost, F/M, Gay Robots, I ain't kiddin' when I saw 'Slow Burn' you ain't getting any Gay Robots so fast, M/M, Oh and some Arcee and Wheeljack in there but mostly gay, PTSD, Past Abuse, Politics, Post-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Redemption, Slow Burn Romance, abuse recovery, rating may go up later, rebuilding of society, slow burn-rebuilding friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetTeaholic/pseuds/SweetTeaholic
Summary: Serious summary wip. Post Predacons Rising salt fulled story over the treatment of Starscream in season three and also an excuse to write gay robots.





	1. Arc 1.0 [Chapter One]

**Author's Note:**

> Update 2/18/2019: Re-edited, cleaned up and changed a bit of things in Chapter One. Chapter Two should be up within a few days hopefully.

 

 

…

 

//system>sfc ̠͎̣̥̱͉̼ /̤sc͙͖a̙͔̬̜̖n̢̳̖̮̮̻n͈̭̱̝̳ͅow̰

 

//Ḇ͜e҉͖̘͈̞̦̯̤ģ͖̬̝̣̪̦̣i̢̖̥͚̳̞̦̯͉͈n̷̮͇͔̮n̺̠̙̭i̵̥ͅn̵̮̬̺̞̲g̸̛҉̙͙͖ ̡͔̠̙͉͝͝s̘̥̠͞y͎͔͎̲͎̬̠͠͝ͅs҉͍̠̠͢t̺̟͓̤ẹ̩͚̳̣m̷̘͇̹͡ ̟̪̪̞̜̫̼̤̟͘s̮̥̳͓̻̼̩c͏͕̝͓̩̻͈̞͢͞a̶̛͙̦͇̰̲ͅn̰̻̹̤͟.̶̩͍̮͈͇̠͕ This p̛̱̹̦̙̙̤̟̄ͨͤͭ̑r̺̲̠͗́̋ͭ͞ő̫g̼̭̈̍̑̈́̆̎̃r̖͍̍̏͒̊̀̄e̶̳̗̗͈̣̟̹ͨs͚͇̣̘͊ͩ̂s̘̍͑͒ͨ͐ may take a while

  


//V̗̻̜̋̄͑̏ͧe͎̟̫̰̰͉͍̞̋̒̆͐͒͋r̤͇̓̍͆̇ī̙̪͍ͤ̎ͣ́̂ͪf̮͈͆̇̂ͯy̘͓̮̦͉ͭ̑̽̒ͥ̈́i̗̞̲͓̤̘̮̦͛̏̀̊ͦn̪̊g̦̩̙̳̤̖̫ͮ

  
  


/̵̙̦̲̹̯͈̺̠̼̰̥͍̝ͫ̌̎͂/͎̲̹͚̹̫̗̞̹̙͔̬̩̱̖̹͌̓͋̐͂̾ͨ̆̄ͤͣ͑͛ͬ̊͑̚͘͠V̸̘̪̻̭̪͚̥̬̺̣ͣ̆̐̈́͝ͅe̜͈͖̻̰͍͖͈̘̜̹̱̤̜̱͓͚̓̂̃̊ͦ̿ͮ̏̌̃̓̅ͭ͋͝ͅr̶̸͎͖͚̙̻̠̲͇͍̼͖̥̬̂̋͐̉̅͋ͨ̈́͗̋̐̇͛ͫ̄̕͢i̷͓̱̣̬̳͉͈͇ͭ͑ͣ̆͗̈́͋͛͘͢͡͡f̆́̾͐̂͌͐͢͏̴̝̰̟̫̜̲̳̖̟̼i̹̭͙̳͓̜͌̓̃̑͌͌͛̏̋̚͝͝ͅc̸̻̞͉̯̲͔̣͇͆͑̈̔͒͋ͣͣ͑͗ͤ̒̑͆̊͟͠à̭̲͈̣͎͍̲̻̮̫̜̠̦̃̐̾͐̕͘t͛́ͨͮͯ̃̂̾̓̎ͬ̽́̊̚͏͔͙͍̜̘̩̝̪͙͖̤̜͖̙̣͢i͌̌ͣͤ̍ͪͧ̀̾͋ͪ͜͞҉̻̩͇̱̰̮̪͕͕͎̞̰ͅǫ̣̼̗̺ͣ͆̿̋ͬ̆̒ͬͤ̔n̷̫̲̘̼͎̹͇̎́͑ͤ̈̂͛̆̾ͥ̓ ̛͗̒̔ͯ̎̄̽ͩ̋͐͂̓҉̸̡̫̹̠̝͜c̶̛̦̙̖̣̥͈̟͉͚̘̪̩͚͓̏̋̐̈́̽̿̉̎͆ͧ̏̃ͨ̌͛ͦ͒ͧ͠ơ̢͕̣̭̪͇̩͍̯̦͈̝̹̪̯̞̪̣̦̹ͥ̆ͣͬ̑͗̆̈́̚͝m̷̡͇̯̖͓̣̫̲̠̂̋̿͒̑̈̾͋͐ͣ̌̏͋p̛͖̺̞̣̱̮̠̙̥̰̠̩̪̪̠̿ͤ̋ͧͣͫ̔̓̒ͦ̚̕͞ͅl̈̇̍ͪͦͩ̀ͫͬ̂͂ͦ̄͋͒͒̒̊҉̵̷̢̙͓͉̞̖̟̠̭̭͙̪͔͕̭͠e̶͊ͩͥ̓̇̉͌̑̓̀̍ͣͫ҉̴̶̜͚͈̯t̨͇̦͚̬̬͉̻͔̖̲͔͔̝̝͕̀̿̄͒̿̎ȩ̿̈ͫ͂̿ͧ͛̒̊͏̲̖̪̦̭̲̙͎.̸̙̪̱̪͙̻̤̟͚̰̞͚̪̣̻̭͛ͪ͒̀ͥ͌̈̒ͮ̎̿̎̓ͣ͂̅̿ͫ̐͟ ̧͎̖͈͎̼̗̳͓͕ͦ͑̓̌̐̓̀̔̚͟͠͠P͕̜̝̬͓̫̤̮͈͕̳̑̒̄̋͑̈͐ͧ͊̌͐̅̿̅̄ͯͣ̕͝l̵̡̢͔̼̹̙͎̦͍͕̫̟͙͚ͤ̾ͣͩ̌̀̔́̊̇̓ͣ̕͜e̵̮̦̩̣̗͈̎͊ͨͥͯ̈́ͤ̊̈́̎̇͢͞a̧͌̑̔͐̃̿̌̑ͦ͛ͣ̏̅̇҉̡̞͈̺̮͇͇̱͖̙̳̞͘͝ş̵̳̖̱̼̯̣͕͙͕̯̰̟̠͔̼̜ͦ̈̇̌͆̇̌̕͝͞ͅe̿̃ͪ̈́͗̓́̀ͭͩ̽̂̚҉̟͕̥̼̭͙̝̼̙̠̦̭͖̠͉̰̜ͅ ̵̡̧͇̟̜̮̥̠̺̬͐͂ͪͪͧ͂ͮ͊ͭ̚͟s̨̧̮̮̲̬̙̠͈̲̤̭̪̻͊ͫ̌̾͑̄ͦ̏ͥ̾̉͘ţ̧̱̘̮͍̥͕͙̗̹̫͙̠͎͉̈́͒́͗̕a̐͐̔̀̔̈̆͏̷̵̨̧̲̫͉̠n̴̛ͮ͂̐͊͊̅ͪͫ͏͡͏͎͉͕̝͉͉̜̰͔̙͖͇̤̜ͅd̷̢̡̙̟̝̩͚̤̆͗ͦͨ̎̔̾ͮ́̈ͥͣͫͧͬ͒̚͜ ̴̡̤͔̫͈̞͈̞̫͔̠̺̐̈́̅̓͜͡ͅͅb͌ͮ̏͂͑҉̬͇̼̺̭̫̫̪̟̤̗̮̼͕͉̳͇̕͘͡yͥ͗̎͑̈́ͥ̊͛̊͐ͭ͋ͫ̓̿̓͆҉̲̰͎͔͔̤̻͙̻̲̘͙̞̤͈̹̝͜͝

  
  
  


…

 

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re:BOOT

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**//arc1.re:BOOT**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter One**

  
  


“Hey Breakdown. It’s, well,” Knock Out cleared his vocoder, “Well, it’s been a while...”

 

The morning sun was rising over Cybertron as its light gleamed off his frame. Across from him was a newly constructed memorial, rocks piled on top of another. There was no body to bury. Megatron ordered all remains of Bre- CYLAS be destroyed after the Terrorcon breakout. Not that it would have mattered, it was no longer his partner’s at that point. That _fragging_ flea bag tainted it way before infusing it with Dark Energon.

 

“It’s been a weird few months, after, well, your passing. Cybertron is alive again and the war is over. I’m an Autobot now. Hope you’re okay with that.” He gave off an awkward chuckle. “I mean, we weren’t the best ‘Cons to begin with, but...”

 

Knock Out paused and spat under his breath, “ _Primus_ , you’re talking to _a pile_ of rocks Knock Out, _not_ an auditorium. Why is this _so_ hard?” He rubbed his helm and took a long deep vent before continuing. “I still feel like a fish out of wat-erm, sorry, human expression. I just don’t know where I fit in yet, or if I’m wanted here. They have no reason to trust me even after hitting Starscream over the head with the immobilizer to win their favor…

 

“...Oh, yeah, I didn’t mention that _I_ _sorta_ pushed Starscream under the bus, did I? Not my proudest moment, but I had to do what was best at the time, you know? I’m sure you’d do the same. He can’t say he didn’t have it coming, to be honest.” There was a lack of confidence in his tone, but he just had to believe enough in his own words to ring true. A part of him wanted to believe them at least...

 

“He likely hates me now. Can’t blame him but-...H-he’ll be fine. No clue where he went after Megatron packed his bags and ranted over his ‘change of spark’. Heh, knowing him, he’ll likely attempt to rebuild the Decepticons in his name, for what good it’ll do him.” He shook his helm at the mere thought. “Idiot…”

 

Knock Out was oblivious to the blue motorcycle that rode up the hill. Arcee transformed and stood in silence, only watching the other.

 

“I got you a gift, by the way.” Reaching into his subspace he took out a small box that filled up the whole of his palm. “It won’t help now but I haven’t forgotten. Been saving it for a while now. I know you asked not to due to being worried you’d be taking resources that could have been used to fix up the Vehicons. One optic wouldn’t have crippled inventory.  I...I think you knew that too...”

 

He rested the box at the side of the memorial, then took a step back.

 

“It’ll take a while for Cybertron to fully recover. We sent out a message yesterday after Prime gave himself to the Allspark. Hopefully some arks will return sooner than later. I expect some new sparks from the Well at some point too, but-” Knock Out’s frown deepened, fighting to not choke on his words.

 

“I-I wish you were here Breakdown. I don’t know if I could-”

 

He paused before turning his helm, finally taking notice to the femme’s presence. Arcee cautiously took a step closer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt?”

 

Knock Out’s optics widen before he composed himself. “Oh, no, no, you’re fine.” _‘Well, this is embarrassing.’_ “Sorry I didn’t inform anyone I was going for a drive.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and replied with an understanding nod. “We were worried. You weren’t at base when we all woke up and Ratchet asked for volunteers to sniff you out.”

 

He gave a bitter yet humored snort in reply. “ Of course he did. _Primus forgive_ if I wanted some time to myself _without_ giving off the least suspect.”

 

“Knock Out-”

 

He rose his servos to his chest. “Oh, no, don’t worry, I completely understand. It wasn’t like I was a Decepticon just yesterday.”

 

“Yet you’re getting pretty defensive about it. You can’t blame us for being cautious, even if you’re on our side. You know there are still those who would wish to continue the war.” Arcee looked out on the horizon.  “May I ask you something?”

 

“...Sure, what about?”

 

“Don’t get offended but being we’re on the subject: If things were to change or tables turn; would you go back? If you were given that chance?”

 

The mech didn’t seem surprised from the assumption couldn't hide the fact he was maybe _slightly_ offended. He understood Arcee’s suspicion. Why should she trust him? After all, his original intent to switch sides was so he’d have a ‘get out of jail free’ card.

 

“Ah, didn’t expect this _lovely_ conversation to turn into an interrogation. Didn’t even bother to sugarcoat that you still believe I’m just waiting for the right opportunity to stab everyone in their recharge.”

 

“I never said it didn’t lack tack but I’m serious Knock Out. I want to believe I could trust you. That we all can…”

 

“Haven’t I not proven enough?” He wasn’t happy about it, but he made sure not to show that she gotten to him. He calmed himself before finally answering her question.  

 

“To tell you the truth, I never really felt like I belonged with the Decepticons. I believed in their cause, but it was never like my contributions meant anything in the end. No one respected me. Doubtful Starscream even did with the many times he sold me out if it meant saving his aft. I was a grounder among a fleet of flyers so you can imagine how fun that was. And after what happened to Breakdown, I-”  Knock Out paused for a moment to clear his thoughts.

 

“Doubtful they’d welcome me back if the opportunity arises. Decepticons aren’t the ‘forgive and forget’ type.”

 

“Not all Autobots are neither,” Arcee chripped.

 

“Oh trust me, I’ve seen it first hand, but at least if one of your kind was in danger you would have come to their rescue. You even risked saving a ‘Con when our own ‘ _glorious leader_ ’ refused to…”

 

Arcee tilted her helm at the answer. “Are you referring when we tried to save-?”

 

“Yeah, Breakdown told me what happened. What _really_ happened. He had to spin the story to the rest of the crew and High Command but that’s politics on the Nemesis for you. Still, to answer your question: Maybe a while back and if things played out differently, I would. But now? Well, it’s hard to look back on everything when you start to question if you lost track of what you were originally fighting for? Or if it was still what you were fighting after so many vorns…”

 

The other hummed softly in agreement. “I think all of us, regardless of which side, lost sight of our reasons for fighting this war. It’s easy to forget that we’re all just Cybertronians under our Insignias. Not that I have any love for ‘Cons, but...”

 

“Can’t say that we had any love for ‘Bots neither, but you’re right. You’d be blind to think if no one was affected by this war, and not just those on the battlefield.” Knock Out’s optics stared down to the ground lost in thought. “At least it’s one chapter of my life I can put behind me. I don’t know if I’d be a good Autobot, but I surely wasn’t a good enough ‘Con…”

 

However, he swiftly changed his attitude to a more humored one to lighten the melancholy mood.

 

“Besides, at least you have some _manners_. How hard is it to get a simple ‘thank you’ once in a while,” He ended with a snort. “Still wouldn’t kill Ratchet to, you know, lighten up a bit? He better be giving you engron pops after your appointments for enduring his _cheery_ demeanor.”

 

_‘At least he isn’t a uncharismatic bore like Shockwave.’_

 

Arcee responded with a soft chuckle. “Well, as grumpy he can be at times; we wouldn’t be alive without him. You’ll get use to it.” She then turned to Breakdown’s memorial.

 

“...You know, if you asked I’m sure some of us-”

 

“I didn’t think to, none of you knew Breakdown. Well, Bulkhead did, but doubt he’d shed a tear for him. Really though, I thought it was best I’d...do this alone.” He faced the grave once more as he fought back a frown. “I never had the time to give him a proper burial. He deserved that much. I just hope his spark rest easy.”

 

“Trust me, I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to lose a partner, Knock Out.”

 

He completely forgot about Cliffjumper’s demise. How could he forget, with how much Starscream _proudly_ gloat about it. Knock Out had to bite down on his glossa to hold back a stride remark. There was no need to ruin the moment and loose the little bit of trust he formed with her.

 

He let out a long drawn out vent. “Doesn’t makes it any easier…”

 

“No, it doesn’t. But you aren’t alone. If you need someone to talk to or at least someone to lend an audial…”

 

His lip plate formed into a soft smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be be fine. I just got to sor-”

 

Knock Out had to cut himself short as his audio receptors picked up a buzzing sound that only got louder by the kliks. Arcee picked up on it as well, both turning to stare out in the distance.

 

A mech in alt mode attempted to keep their balanced in flight but to no avail, losing attitude. The pressure and speed caused its already barely held together left wing to snap in half, finally causing it to lose it’s bearings until it finally crashed into the ruins of old deshivle buildings of Cybertron’s past.

 

Both flinched from the impact.

 

“ _Primus_ …”

 

“Scrap, the way they landed, they could be in critical condition,” The femme transformed and drove towards the crash site.

 

“Arcee, wait!” Knockout's alt followed suit, speeding to catch up before keeping to a pace that was close to Arcee’s.  “FYI, I only have my basic supplies with me. If their injuries are as bad as that crash...”

 

“First we get to them, then we’ll worry about that. Hopefully Ratchet got a groundbridge working at base…”

 

Both slid to a stop and transformed. Once collected, the two ventured into the ruins cautiously. “Stay alert. The structure of these buildings doesn't seem sound.”

 

“You _don’t_ say? It’s not like these been abandoned for, I don’t know, _vorns_ now?”

 

She turned to him with an irritated stare. Knock Out replayed what he said in his head realising how he came across.

 

“Sorry, I-”

 

“It’s fine, let’s just focus on finding them.” Arcee wasn’t harsh in her tone nor seemed annoyed, but her optics claimed otherwise.

 

“Hello?” Her voice boomed through the building as they strolled further in, “We saw you crash and-!”

 

There echoed a raspy cough coming from the direction of light peeking through the cracks of the roof. That had to be the crash site. The dust had yet to clear but Arcee and Knock Out approached carefully.

 

“Wait,” Arcee rose her arm in front of the other when they took sight of a silhouette slowly rising back to their pede. It was obvious from their balance they were struggling to stand. She chose to approach them to help but she froze in her tracks as the dust finally settled, backing away cautiously.

 

Knock Out couldn’t help but be confused confused by her change of heart but her reasons soon came to light as he glared out to finally make out the slender frame. His optics widen.

 

“Starscream?...”

 

The seeker gasped.  He didn’t even realise he wasn’t alone. He lift his helm and there stood Arcee and-

 

_Him._

 

“Sta- stay back!” Starscream crudely transformed his arm into his nullray, aiming it directly at them. “Don’t take another step closer!!” His fans _clicked_ within his panic and blowed loudly as his body heated up. His CPU went into overdrive making it impossible for him to gain control of himself as his frame shook.

 

It didn’t take long for Arcee to do the same with her pistols, only intensifying his paranoia further. Knock Out however only flitched at the seeker’s response, but he didn’t move from his spot.

 

All he could do was stare.

 

His medical eye analyzed every detail of Starscream’s frame. It was trashed and dented no doubt caused by blunt trauma along with what appeared to be bite and claw marks all over, still dripping fresh energon. Plating was either missing or torn, exposing bits of wires and circuits. The plating in his leg was chewed off with the structure cruelty twisted. The mech also took notice of areas that were starting to rust. And of course, his left wing that snapped in half mid air, but the other seemed mostly intact, putting aside a few marks similar to other parts of his body.

 

And this is only the _external_ damage! Knock Out couldn’t imagine what the internal trauma was.

 

It felt as if he saw a ghost. His processor couldn’t even fathom how he gotten in the shape he was in now. Seeing his former commander, his _former friend_ \--

 

No, he wasn’t that anymore. Doubtful Starscream ever cared about him to begin with to even consider the medic as such. He sold him out plenty of times; no friend would do such a thing…

 

 _‘You mean just like_ **_you_ ** _sold him out?’_ The little voice in the back of his head thought.

 

 _‘It’s_ **_not_ ** _the same.’_

 

 _‘Is it? I mean,_ **_he_ ** _would have done the same to_ **_you_ ** _so it’s justified, right?’_

 

Pits, this was no time to wrestle with his conscious! Regardless what his feelings were then or are now, Starscream was in need of medical attention scat!

 

The medic took a risk and approached the seeker slowly. “Starscream, wh-”

 

“I _said_ stay back,” he hissed through his denta with Knock Out doing he was told. Good.

 

“Lower your weapons, Starscream,” Arcee commanded, blasters at the ready.

 

“Arcee, maybe we should lower it a notch-”

 

“He’s still armed and I’m not taking any chances.” The femme returned her attention back to the seeker. “Lower your weapon, now! I won’t ask again.”

 

“Or _what?!_ You’ll shoot at me?!” Starscream let out a bitter snicker. “I’m sure you’re _just_ dying to avenge your _precious_ Cliffjumper!! What’s the chance you’ll get a better moment like this one?!”

 

He had to be delirious at this point. Sure, Starscream wasn’t too proud to beg but never would he dare ask for a death wish. Knock Out knew Arcee wouldn’t back down and neither would the seeker.

 

This was going to end in bloodshed...

 

Arcee was starting to lose her patience as she bit down on her denta. “I said lowe-!!”

 

“Slag it Starscream,” Knock Out cut her off in an attempt to reason with the other, “Don’t make it harder than this is! Look, you’re barely holding together and you’ll die without medical attention! If you let us help you, we can-”

 

“ _Help me?_ Why would you want to help me, _Knock Out._ ” he spat out his name, not hiding his disdain for the other. “I **don’t** need yours, or the Autobot’s he-!” The seeker was forced to cut himself off as he coughed up energon. _His_ energon, now dripping from his lip plate and splattered to the ground below them. Even Arcee was starting to show concern.

 

That’s never a good sign...

 

“I _don’t_ need your help!! I don’t...I don...”

 

Starscream collapsed to the ground as his optics offlined and his frame went limp. Arcee lowered her weapons and transformed them back no longer seeing him as a threat.  Knock Out however didn’t stand idle as he ran to the seeker’s side.

 

“Scrap!” The medic kneeled down and grabbed his medical scanner from his subspace.

 

“Is he-?”

 

“No, he just went into stasis lock. But he losing engeron at an alarming rate and his spark is barely holding together. It’ll soon collapse on itself if he doesn’t get attention right now! Call base for the groundbridge and-”

 

“Wait,” Arcee rose her servos above her chest in protest, “Are you serious!? You want to bring Starscream back with us? _Starscream_?”

 

“Yes, your point,” the other replied coldly as he kept his optics on the scanners readings for any changes.

 

“ _My_ point is that you want us to bring Starscream back to base!”

 

“Yes, I believe you mentioned your disdain for that just a moment ago.”

 

“And I think it’s justified Knock Out! Are you forgetting who Starscream is?”

 

“Believe me, I _haven’t_ forgotten. I’m sure you remember what side _I_ was on just not too long ago too, right?”

 

Her optics widened. “I didn’t mean it like that-”

 

“Look, I know, _this is_ Starscream and Pits if I’m not thrilled about taking him back with us neither but we can’t leave him to rust!”

 

“Can we? It’s not like anyone would miss him.”

 

 _‘It’s not like anyone would miss him.’_ Knock Out replayed what she just said in his mind. Yes, Arcee had every reason to not wanting to help Starscream. Pits, even he didn’t trust him knowing even in his worst state, he could be a force to be reckoned with but he was a doctor firstmost. He wouldn’t leave a patient, ‘Con or-

 

Well, no. If he was still a Decepticon within a war that didn’t end and found Arcee or Bumblebee or whoever on Team Prime close to death, he wouldn’t hesitate leaving them to bleed out.

 

You’d think an Autobot would jump to the chance to saving a life, regardless whose side they were on. Guatuide could be quite the recruitment tool for a lesser mech. Yet again, they shown time and time again that they had little sympathy for ‘Cons unless they had their uses. Or if they _‘proved’_ themselves...

 

...Like he did…

 

_‘Oh, there goes the little voice in the back of my head again…’_

 

“What happened to we’re all the same under our Insignias?” He didn’t turn to face her nor bothered to hide his disappointment in the other. For all their talk about honor and mortals, they were no different from Decepticons.

 

 _‘Or maybe, you can’t help but blame yourself for what_ **_you_ ** _did to him? You never had such a mortal demlima when you were a ‘Con? Is being a ‘Bot changed you to believe you’re better now?’_

 

Knockout shook his helm and let out a long vent. No, he wasn’t going to have any of this now.

 

“I know he’s done some horrible things Arcee and Cliffjumper’s death is stil-”

 

“This _isn’t_ just about Cliffjumper anymore! This is about everything he’s done in this war! He’s not some random Decepticon soldier Knock Out!  He lies, manipulates and even kills if it benefits him!”

 

“ _And_ he’s rude and a bit of an aft! I have my whole top ten list saved in my CPU if you want me to share.”

 

“I’m dead serious, Knock Out! We both know how dangerous he is! You worked alongside him! You of all mechs should know what he’s capable of yet you’re debating this whe-”

 

“Well, the fact that _we are_ debating this when _a life_ is on the line is also pretty serious, don’t you think? Yeah, he hasn’t earned any of our sympathy and by all accounts; maybe he does deserve to rust but, tell me truthfully Arcee: Is it the Autobot way to leave anyone, regardless who they are, like this?”

 

Arcee couldn’t think of a response but her silence was enough of an answer.

 

“Maybe it’s easy for you, but I won’t leave him to die regardless of what our history was or becomes of him afterwards. What would that say about us if we did? And I’m sure Optimus wouldn’t want us to abandon him like this neither…”

 

And there is what she dreaded the most: The _‘What would Optimus have done’_ speech.

 

Leaving Starscream defenseless and left to die is something Prime wouldn’t stand for. He didn’t sacrifice himself to let old wounds fester and doing so now that the war was over...

 

What they do with the seeker after he recovers is a discussion for another day. Whenever a stable government is establish, there's no doubt they will label all Decepticons as war criminals and be put on trial. But until that day comes…

 

She knew Knock Out was right, and she _loathed_ it!

 

“Damn it,” She said under her breath. A second of silence went by before Arcee spoke again...

 

“No, he wouldn’t.” She bought her sevro to her helm to use her commlink, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.  “Arcee to base, do you read me?”

 

 _“Arcee?”_ On the other side she was greeted by Bumblebee, _“Did you find Knock Out?”_

 

“Yes, he’s with me now. And he’s not the only one we found. Can you open a groundbridge and tell Ratchet we need his assistance?”

 

_“Whoa, wait? What’s going on?”_

 

“It’s a medical emergency, one that he’s _not_ going to like…”

 

Knock Out barely tuned into Arcee’s conversation as he continued to track Starscream’s vital signs.

 

_‘Just stay with me just a little longer Starscream...’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens kids when you make your way back into Transformers Hell: You write a salt-filled fanfic. (tbh that's really how all my fanfics start). Oh, and something about gay robots I think but that's secondary. Special thanks to Rowena_Bensel for being a wonderful beta and editor.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next update for this will be being I do have other projects to work on plus I'm still planning out where I want to take this story outside of, ya know, Gay Robots (putting aside the secondary pairing in the tags) and salt. I have an idea but still gotta make sure they all flow together. 
> 
> In the meantime, do enjoy. Constructive criticism and feedback are welcomed~


	2. Arc 1.1 [Chapter Two]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated A for Annnnngst!

 

**Chapter Two**

 

Construction only gotten on its way in Iacon. What better place to start rebuilding Cybertron than the Autobot capital itself?

 

Shelter and energon was the first of many major concerns. Arks from neutral to Autobot would return from their exodus along with newsparks emerging from the Well. Decepticon arks were also to be expected and they dreaded the day the first one would land. Their message was sent out for **all** Cybertronians after all, regardless of which walk of life they came from. But not any member of Team Prime had the confidence that they would play nice. Yet again, when did ‘Cons ‘ _play nice_ ’?

 

Preparations (and precautions) were needed to keep the peace or risk another war with core infrastructure and a stable government taking _years_ to re-establish. No one knew what the future held and they were all eager to find out...

 

 

 

  
  
  


Bulkhead was surprised by the many Vehicons who willingly choose to help with construction. Pits, a good majority didn’t even fight back once Megatron was killed and even more volunteered after he choose to disband the Decepticons once breaking free of Unicron’s hold.

 

Bumblebee recalled when he broke the news to them.  Emotions were varied throughout the Nemesis. Denial. Anger. Confusion was the most potent. Even within a small group, there was a sense of relief.

 

_“Lord Megatron would_ **_never_ ** _give up and face defeat!?! The Autobots are deceiving us!”_

 

_“Maybe he became just as tired of fighting a hopeless war like we all have?”_

 

_“Megatron betrayed us!! Left us at the mercy of the Autobots!!”_

 

It was strange: They were so use to mowing them down like gun fodder, an obstacle in their way. They were cloned, created to be expendable. They were slaves with their function assigned to them at birth, to fight and serve until death. It was the _very thing_ the Decepticons _swore_ to put an end to. The _very thing_ Megatron claimed this war was about!

 

Each one had their own personally, their own wants and needs, even their own dreams of becoming something more than soldiers or miners. They had a spark just as any Cybertronian did.

 

It’s funny how when you’re **not** shooting at each other is when you start seeing things in a whole new perspective.

 

Both sides were exhausted from this war, but it was over now. No more energon being spilled, no more senseless deaths.

 

No more fighting to stay alive.

 

The only thing on everyone's mind now was rebuilding what was lost. Slowly but surely: They’ll rebuild Cybertron.

 

They’ll rebuild their home…

 

 

  
  
  
  


Team Prime set up their new base at an abandoned hospital close to the outer ends of the city. The building was disheveled but structure remained sturdy enough to fit their needs. Everything was left the way it was before the exodus, equipment and all. _Outdated_ equipment…

 

_“I suppose it could be worst,”_ They all recall Ratchet putting it nicely. A few Vehicons took initiative of cleaning up the place and helped with maintenance. The section of the building where they resided should be reasonably functional within a few cycles.

 

And pray tell they _needed_ it functional…

 

* * *

 

  


Ratchet mended another teared fuel line as he continued to examine the rest of the Seeker’s insides. Starscream layed on the berth in comatose as he and Knock Out, whom sat across from him, focused on the operateration.

 

They rushed to hook him up to life support immediately once they returned. He was barely holding on and would have been good as dead if the Nemesis didn’t have a fully stocked med bay and rations. The hospital was strip bare of any energon packs and medical supplies, no doubt taken for the necessary hoarding for the Arks that took to space…

 

The older medic signed under his face shield, never once turning his focus away from the patient. “Of _all_ the things I planned to look forward to when I was called back, this wasn’t one of them.”

 

Knock Out briefly paused his work to glare up to the other. “This wasn’t what I hoped to end up on my schedule neither. To be honest, I hoped to never bumped into him again.”

 

“At least he’s in stasis. If there just so happens to be a worst patient out there, I pray to never meet them.”

 

Knock Out lightly chuckled as he went back to focusing on another fuel line that needed patching. “Understatement of the century! Seriously, once I _even_ managed to get him on a berth; he never stopped whining.” Any humor he found in the older mech’s statement however quickly vanished before whispering to himself, “What mess did you get yourself into this time, Starscream?”

 

“Sure that’s a question you’d want to ask once he-” Ratchet paused. “ _If_ he wakes up.”

 

“If there's one thing about Starscream working alongside him Ratchet, is that he’s too stubborn to just pack his bags and give up, no matter how badly things turned on him. He’ll live.”

 

The other snort. “Sounds like you admire him.”

 

“No, but for better or worst; he’s resilient. It’s not a trait everyone has...”

 

“Among _other things_. He’s going to be an aft of a project if he makes it through this.”

 

“You know that Ultra Magnus is stabilized enough he’ll make a smooth recovery. No one is stopping you from returning to Earth.”

 

“ _Puh-lease._ As if I’d trust you enough to keep him that way?”

 

Knock Out plaused his work once more, optics expressing annoyance. “I’m more than qualified.”

 

“Yeah, but with your _colorful_ histo-”

 

“Which is exactly that: History! Are you really going to-” Knock Out had to stop himself from snapping and thankfully Ratchet held back any retort he had lined up. The last thing any of them wanted was for things to get heated during a delicate procedure nor did the older mech have the patience of dealing with it.

 

After a few moments of silence, Ratchet vented and chose his words wisely:

 

“Once we get him stabilized, I’m gonna need his medical history along with the Vehicons that were stationed under your care.”

 

“The next trip back to the Nemesis I can transfer my files to you. That is, if you’ll _at least_ authorize me that honor? Don’t want some _rouge ‘Con_ handling such important documents after all.”  He didn’t attempt to hide any bitterness over Ratchet’s past remark but hoped the other didn’t take offense to it. It’ll pass, eventually.

 

“Yes, yes, yes, I’ll have you join Bumblebee and Arcee on their next trip; no need to get all snippy on me.”

 

The red mech didn’t bother to respond as he continued his work, his anger finally beginning to aside...

 

* * *

 

 

“ _So_ ,” Smokescreen entered the small lounge where Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee were sitting as he sung in a playful tone, “No one wants to talk about the elephant in the room?”

 

The round mech stared dumbfounded with only Arcee ridging an eyebrow in response as she took a sip from her energon cube. Bulkhead finally added, “ _Um_ , we have **an** elephant on Cybertron?”

 

“Um, nevermind.  I heard that saying on Earth somewhere. I’m referring to the ‘Con that just so happens to be resting in our new base of operations.”

 

“Oh yeah, _him_ ,” Bulkhead’s disgust was on full display knowing exactly whom the younger bot was referring to. He then turned to Arcee. “Whose bright idea was to bring _that_ slagger back to base anyways? We know Starscream can’t be trusted!”

 

“Don’t need to tell me twice, Bulk, but Knock Out was pretty insist to help him and putting aside my personal feelings; it wouldn’t have been right to let him rust.”

 

“Yeah, but this is Starscream we’re talking about? _Starscream?_! Who knows what he’ll do if he recovers.”

 

“You’re basically mirroring what I said...”

 

“Why are you all acting so casual about this,” Wheeljack criticized in from across the room as he rested his frame on the nearest wall with his arms crossed. “The damn slagger has a way of just getting all in your grill and ruining your day. Wouldn’t surprise me if he stabs one of us in our sleep.”

 

“C’mon guys,” Bumblebee finally inserted himself into the conversation, “Regardless who Starscream is, you and Knock Out did the right thing Arcee. Besides, if he does end up picking a fight; we’ll be more than ready.”

 

“Not to mention he got pretty dent up,” Smokescreen added pridefully, “You really think he’d have the strength to fight back? Doubt he’d be able to lift a finger if he tried.”

 

Wheeljack snorted in reply. “Yeah, well, still wouldn’t put it past him. None of you are concern that our friendly ex-’Con wanted to bring him here to begin with?”

 

The other Wrecker sighed, “I know you don’t trust him Jackie, and I can’t say I’m too fond of Knock Out neither but I like to think he’s genuine about switching sides.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Wheeljack finally backed away from the wall, “I’m surprised you believe that, Bulk. You and I should know better than that by now.”

 

Bulkhead growled under his breath, “ _Jackie_ …”

 

“Don’t ‘Jackie’ me,” The Wrecker pointed his digit at the other, “Remember the last time we both trusted someone who ‘switched sides’? Look how well that played out.”

 

The other three appeared confused. Bulkhead shook his helm. “Yeah, I know but, well, the war’s over and it’s not like he didn’t help us stop Unicron. Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”

 

“Oh, yeah, see how long that last once his _commander_ recovers enough to slash our throats open. Maybe you want to get cummy with our new team member, but once a ‘Con, always a ‘Con.” Before Bulkhead could even get a word in, Wheeljack already marched out of the lounge. All he could do is sigh.

 

“So,” Arcee spoke, “The ‘Con problem Wheeljack was referring to?”

 

“Yeah, it was when I was still rolling with the Wreckers. It’s a long story.”

 

“Well,” Smokescreen finally sat down with the others, “All I can say is that I just lost the will to recharge for the next few solar cycles.”

 

The group turned when they heard the swish of the door opening as Ratchet took his first steps in.

 

“So, how’s our patient doing?” Arcee asked.

 

“He’s stabilized if that’s what your asking, but it’s too early to say if he’ll make a full recovery.”

 

“Yeah, and what if he _does_ ,” Bulkhead couldn’t help but express his anger at the situation, “What then?!”

 

“Don’t be quick to panic, Bulkhead; we’re putting precautions in place.”

 

“Oh, sure, because _that_ makes me feel better!”

 

“But picture how _I_ feel!! Thank Primus he can’t yap away at the moment.”

 

“Seems like you and Knock Out both have your work cut out for you,” The femme jokes.

 

The medic rubbed his temple and grumbled. “ _Don’t remind me…_ ”

 

“Where is Knock Out, anyways?”

 

“He’s finishing cleaning up, while also keeping tabs on Starscream to make sure his vitals remain stable.”

 

“You think he’s taking this hard,” Bumblebee looked over to the others. “I mean, they were... _colleagues_ I guess would be the right term for it?”

 

The Wrecker snorted humorestly. “Are we forgetting that he basically whacked him on the head with the Immobilizer? Besides, why would anyone fuss over Starscream? He’s an aft!”

 

“ _An_ aft who unfortunately ended up on my medical berth. Like it or not; there was a time in my field of profession that one _had_ to uphold helping a patient, regardless of personal feelings. I expect there will be more Starscreams that I’ll have the luck of being under my care once Cybertron gets itself back together.”

 

“You sound like you’re expecting the worst?”

 

Ratchet frown deepened as his expression appeared tried. “When you’re a mech as old as I, Bulkhead; It’s in your best interest to expect the worst.”

 

“So it’s true then?”

 

The medic perked as he turned to face the trio of Vehicons behind him.

 

“Commander Starscream is here at base?” The one in front of the group spoke softly as he fiddled with his digits nervously.

 

Ratchet’s optics looked distressed by the question. “...Yes, but in critical condition.” He sounded cold in his response but attempted to be as compassionate as he could.

 

“B-but he’ll recover, right doc?” Another asked.

 

“Too early to say. We’re doing all we can but nothing is for certain. Keep in mind that he’s been labeled as a criminal. If any of you plan on-”

 

“Wha- _what_ ?!” The third Vehicon of the group finally spoke up, waving his servos violently in protest. “N-no, none of us would _dream_ of it! Lord Megatron said the war is over and if he says _it’s_ over, it’s over!!”

 

“Well,” His colleague’s voice was shaky as he tried to form his words, “I-I wouldn’t put pass a few willing to rally behind Commander Starscream if the tables turn. I know I would if it meant to fight against a new caste system forming. The Autobots haven’t exactly treated us kindly over the vorns and we still support our Cause, even if the fighting halted.”

 

“I doubt it’ll come down to that, St3v3.”

 

“I’m not so confident it _wouldn’t_.”

 

“Hmph, suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” The medic shook his helm. “As if we weren’t already-”

 

“Ratchet,” Bumblebee got up from his seat and stood beside him, “I wouldn’t worry about an uprising. I think a good majority of the Vehicons are on our side and even if Starscream wanted to engage anything; the Decepticons are nowhere as powerful as they once were with Megatron gone. What advantage would they gain for kick-starting another war?” He faced the three Vehicons. “I get it if you don’t trust us and I won’t take it against you, some of us are on edge as well, but no one here will make you throw away your Badges or force you to change your beliefs. The war took a toll on everyone and if we’re going to rebuild Cybertron, we’re gonna need to put aside our differences and work for peace.

 

“Forming a new caste system would only have us fighting all over again. I can’t say what will happen in the years to come, but I can sense a bright future ahead of us regardless of our alignments.”

 

The Vehicon leading the pack tilted his head in curiosity but didn’t appear particularly moved. “I’d like to believe that too sir but old habits die hard. It’s just hard to picture living...I dunno, a normal life?”

 

“Cybertron was already in ruins when I was Sparked. I never got to see it before the war; when it was at peace. It’s hard to think of a life where you’re not fighting to stay alive.  Pits, never even thought I’d see the day the war would end. There was one moment I thought I was going to become one with the Allspark. But we’re here now; all of us. We survived and I think we all deserve a chance of a normal life. It’ll be hard to adjust maybe, but…”

 

“Yeah but the Decepticons _lost_ the war, and by the majority of Autobots account; we’d be considered war criminals. Would we even be allowed a fresh start?”

 

Bumblebee smiled softly and nodded, “I think everyone should be given a second chance...”

 

“I wish we can share your optimism sir, but once a government is formed and Autobot run-”

 

“Assuming is never a good thing. It won’t be a while until we get to that point and by then; you’ll more than likely have proved your worth.”

 

The Vechions remained speechless but their expressions showed an odd mixture of doubt but with a ting of hope as well. It was a sign that Bumblebee’s words gotten to them.

 

“Well, not to ruin your motivation speech, Bumblebee,” Ratchet faced the younger mech, “But I believe we all have duties to attend to.”

 

“Right. Me and Smokescreen are suppose to be on patrol duty today.”

 

“And I should return to the care of our guest.” The medic groaned as he left the room. “ _My sanity be damned…_ ”

 

“Um, yeah,” One of the Vechions said as the other two strolled off, “We’re supposed to help with construction. Bulkhead, sir, the lot of us are having problems with the structure of-”

 

Bulkhead cut him off with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll address it.” The heavy got up from his seat and walked alongside the Vehicon.

 

“I know we’re putting you under a lot of stress sir, but we weren’t programmed to-.”

 

“Yeah, I know, sorry I’m not being understanding to ya guys. We’ll work it out…”

 

The room became quiet, now leaving Bumblebee, Smokescreen and Arcee left.

 

“You’re really hitting your stride with your words Bee.”

 

The yellow mech turned to his cohort. “Thanks Arcee.”

 

Arcee drowned the last of her enegron and set the cube on the table before getting up. “I need to escort a group in finding energon deposits. I’ll catch up with you two later…”

 

Smokescreen watched her leave. Once the door shut, he turned back over the other. “With the Vehicons, Bee: Did you really mean every word you said?”

 

Bumblebee's smile straighten. “Yeah, I did. I think we all should live up to Optimus’ example. He’d want that much...”

  


* * *

 

 

_“I am_ **_not_ ** _here to seize thrones, Starscream…”_

 

_Predaking and his brethren continued to corner the seeker until he found himself tripping on to the very throne that once belonged to Megatron whom he willing gave up. His wings shivered as he fearfully glared into the beast’s yellow optics, talons digging deep into the armrest. He felt his Spark sink, feeling ever so small as their shadows slowly continued to loom over him, blocking his view of the world. He had no room to escape._

 

_“..._ **_But_ ** _to settle scores…”_

  


* * *

 

  


He shot up with a blood-curdling scream. His venting became rapid as he tried to collect himself and take grasp of his whereabouts. Starscream was finally able to break out of his faze as he felt his wrist unable to move. His optics glared down, only now taking notice of his servos strapped down to the berth he laid on.

 

“What the-?” What first started as panic swiftly turned into anger as he fought against his restraints. “What in _Primus_ is this?!”

 

“Well, there goes my peace and quiet.”

 

The voice was just enough to get him to stop for the moment before he turned to his side. There stood Ratchet, optics greeting him with his crotchety demeanor.

 

“I was hoping you’d be out for a few more cycles but that’d be asking for too much, would it.” He then returned to typing on his datapad, but not without a bitter groan that the seeker only assumed was aimed at him.

 

The only thing Starscream could blur out was a soft, “What?”

 

After calming down, he took the time to take in his surroundings. His chest vents were hooked up to medical tubes and wires that he was unfortunately all too familiar with, pumping coolants and nanties into his system. Glaring down, he managed to make out a line under one of this wrist cuffs that traveled up to a pole holding a full bag of medical grade energon. He then turned to where he heard the sound of beeps and hums coming from the screens on his right which he only assumed was his vital signs.

 

None of this helped with his confusion any more than it did before, his progressor still attempting to load his last memories.

 

How did he get here? He didn’t recall the Autobot medic finding him. The last he remembered was that two wheeler aiming her pistols at him and…

 

_Knock Out_

 

This only caused his anger to start seething again. _Of course_ he’d sell him out a second time. After all, he was part of the ‘winning team’ now. What more of a better way to prove his loyalty further than ringing him in. _Again_. Expect this time, he would remain as their prisoner with no ways of escape.

 

Starscream violently fought against the bonds as he thrashed about on his berth, hoping that perhaps (more like wishful thinking) the added force would give him more strength to break free. This only had Ratchet stop himself from his work to swiftly run over and gently pushed the seeker down. “Take it easy, Starscream. You took-”

 

The seeker snarled before finally snapping, “ _Take it_ **_easy_ ** _?!_ ” He attempted to shake Ratchet’s sevros off him before yelling out, “How am I supposed to take it easy when you have me held _prisoner!!?_ ”

 

“Well, look _who’s_ finally awake...”

 

Both mechs faced the new group that entered the medbay, who was made up of Arcee, Bumblebee, and Wheeljack. The last one let out a snort as his lip plate formed into a smug smile.

 

“...The good _ol’_ second in command of the ‘Cons.” He playfully bowed, only to drive his disdain yet amusement for the seeker home. “Unless you no longer hold that title after, you know, your master ditched and ran.”

 

Starscream snarled through clenched denta but before he could snapback, Ratchet choose to speak up in order to undetectably keep the peace,

 

“I hope your Nemesis trip was successful?”

 

“Yeah, it was,” Arcee chirped, “Knock Out got the medical records you needed.”

 

“Much appreciated. I’ll speak to him about it once I’m done here.”

 

She crossed her arms and focused her attention on the flyer. “And I’m assuming you’re feeling better if your screeching is to be an indicator.”

 

“Enough with the fake sympathy: Why am I here?!”

 

“Geez ‘Screamer, do you think that’s the way to speak to those who kept ya from joining the rest of the scrap behind the building!”

 

Starscream knew Wheeljack was trying to provoke him. He bit down on his glossa just to keep himself from taking the bait. If his servos weren’t bond at the moment, he would have slashed that smug grin off his face!

 

The femme shook her helm before continuing, “Me and Knock Out found you and-”

 

“I know _that_ ,” the seeker screeched, “I asked _why_ I’m here not _how_ I got here!!”

 

Arcee rolled her optics. “Of course. You were in bad shape and you needed medical attention. We brought you back with us and both Knock Out and Ratchet patched you up.”

 

“ _Your welcome_ , by the way,” Ratchet added sarcastically, already returning to his work.

 

“And before you try anything, Starscream,” Bumblebee spoke softly yet sternly, “We deactivated your weapon protocols and have precautions in place if you attempt anything, but we aren’t going to let any harm come to you along you don’t give us a reason to.”

 

“That’s quite an elaborate way of saying you aren’t going to execute me.”

 

“Well, it’d be kinda a waste to save your life only to be forced to kill you after.”

 

The seeker only gave a snort in reply. Bumblebee was about to continue but the Wecker cut him off,

 

“Hey if you still want that execution, ‘Screamer, no one would protest against it. I’ll even offline you myself.”

 

_‘Slag it, Wheeljack.’_ “Wheeljack, you aren’t-”

 

“It’s _STAR_ scream you-!!” His frame shook in anger, fighting to hold it back whatever insults he had lined up. Responding in hostilities wouldn’t help him.

 

Starscream had enough of this game, however. He felt as if they were using this opportunity now that he was strapped down and too weak to fight back to mock him further. He wasn’t going to stand by and take it.

 

He let out an irritated snarl. “Prisoner or not, I refuse to be used for your entertainment! Where’s _your_ Prime!? I wish to have a word with him about this treatment! It’s completely undignified!!”

 

A heavy silence filled the room. The air surrounding them felt so somber that even Wheeljack didn’t bite back.

 

“What? What did I say?”

 

It remained quiet for another kilt before Bumblebee took a step forward. “Starscream, you can’t speak to Optimus. He,” The young mech tried to keep his voice steady attempting to string his words together. “Optimus sacrificed himself to revive the Well. He merged the Allspark with his to protect it from Unicron and give life back to Cybertron. He’s the reason why we’re all still standing…”

 

Wait? Optimus...is dead? For real this time?

 

He didn’t know how to respond to the news honestly. A part of him wanted to gloat, to shove it in their face that their _precious_ Prime is gone and _good riddance_ for it.

 

But another…

 

He couldn’t really pinpoint how else he felt? Pity? Relief? A bit of sorrow? He had no love for Optimus nor did he have any sympathy for their lost; the war made him desensitized to find any reason to care about those who were killed, regardless by the hands who took them. But it still felt strange. A Prime almost seemed as they were immortal, even though they were just as vulnerable to death as any Cybertronian was.

 

Maybe it was more of an understanding of what they lost than it was feeling anything for them. The Autobots viewed him as their beacon of hope. There was a time where he could see why the Decepticons were so eager to follow Megatron through the Pits. That was before he was driven to insanity. If there _even was_ a time he wasn’t some madman or cared about winning and ending the war.

 

Couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised how the Prime went out though...

 

“He was always foolishly selfless,” He blurred out softly to himself without thinking and of course, the room’s atmosphere changed from somber to hostile.

 

“How **dare you** speak about Optimus _that_ way!?” Ratchet was fuming as he jabbed a digit at the seeker. “After all he’s done for Cybertron, you could at least attempt to act as if his death meant something to us!”

 

The seeker wanted to bark back but kept himself composed.

 

“Primus help me Starscream if it wasn’t for my oath as a medic, I’d leave you to rust like the trash you are.”

 

“I offer to take the trash out if you’d like, Doc,” Wheeljack cracked his knuckles as his sneer held both a sense of ressentiment and enjoyment of the idea of tossing that slagger out to rust.

 

“You,” The medic then pointed over to the Wrecker, “Not another peep from you neither!! I have just as much patience for your scrap right now Wheeljack as I do for his!”

 

Wheeljack rolled his optics. He was just as fed up with the situation as everyone else was as he rose his hands in the air and without a word, left the room.

 

Ratchet responded with an irritated grunt. His optics then shifted to the other two as his frown softened. He watched Arcee clenching her fist together in an attempt to bottle up her frustration. As it appeared she was about to say something, she stopped herself. With the shake of her helm, she stormed out of the room.

 

“Arcee, wait!” Bumblebee followed after her, finally leaving Ratchet alone with his patient. He sighed before returning to work.

 

“You _really_ have a way with tact, you know that Starscream.”

 

He only received silence in response. The medic was relieved that Starscream didn’t snap back, still angry over the seeker’s remark. Once enough aside, he took in a deep vent before speaking again,

 

“I apologize on behalf of Wheeljack’s behavior. As little sympathy I have for you, it was still uncalled for.” The apology came across as half baked but for the mood he was in, he could have said far worse.

 

It didn’t mean anything to Starscream however, and in all honesty, he wanted to move far from the subject as he could.

 

“How long was I out for?”

 

His optics shifted to the sided. “Almost three solar cycles. Your injuries were -- extensive to say the least. We weren’t so sure if you’d wake up or not but Knock Out did say you were resilient...”

 

Ratchet didn’t explain further. Starscream didn’t want to think about Knock Out. Just the mere mention of his name filled him with a tranquil fury. He thought over what the medic said about his injuries before speaking again...

 

“Was I...close to…” He couldn’t finish.  He started to regret asking the question to begin with, dreading the answer.

 

This time, Ratchet gave the seeker his full attention before responding. “You were...pretty darn close. We almost lost you a few time if you want me to be honest. I can imagine if we didn’t find you sooner than later, you would have joined with the Allspark…”

 

The thought of him being _that_ close made him bite down on his lip plate fighting against the sudden feeling of nausea.

 

Ratchet continued, “I don’t know what happened to you to end up in the shape you were in, but you seem to have the worst track record for how much scrap one mech can go through…”

 

Even if he meant it as a joke, it no longer felt humorist once the medic noticed the seeker’s frame slightly shaking and optics showing distress. This was concerning.

 

Ratchet dealt with his share of patients during the war to know the signs of psychological trauma. Unfortunate mechs who survived whatever horrors that were thrown at them while repairing (or in worst cases, amputating) broken limbs and shouting of those who bleed out begging they’d live another day. Most of those patients weren’t so lucky. Those who were…

 

He had no love for Starscream, but he couldn’t shake off his regard for his patient.

 

“...We...don’t need to talk about that at the moment,” Ratchet responded in a soft, understanding tone. “But what you do need to do right now is rest. You have a long recovery ahead of you and once you’re able to stand on your own pedes again, you’ll more than likely have to go through a stage of physical therapy. We can discuss that at a later time. We’ll also have to discuss the situation about your left wing.”

 

He flinched. The seeker forgot all about his wing only for him to be brought back to remembering the pain when it completely snapped in half in midair, causing that horrifying crash to begin with. And if the damage ends up be _permanent_ : the thought of never being able to fly among the skies again…

 

Starscream had to fight with himself to shut those thoughts, a task he seemed to be failing in.

 

“Well,” The medic spoke. That was enough to pull the seeker out of his helm, even if for a short while. “I have other duties to attend to at the moment. I highly recommend you don’t stress yourself and try to make the best of your situation at the moment, even if not ideal. We’ll check up on you in a few.” Ratchet headed to the exit optics glued to his datapad, reading over the medical reports that started to load.

 

“Doctor?”

 

The sound of Starscream’s voice made Ratchet stop and turn his helm halfway to face him.

 

“What’s...what’s going to happen to me once I recover?”

 

“...That’s yet to be determined Starscream, but I wouldn’t think about that right now. Right now you should focus on getting better.”

 

With that, Ratchet finally headed out the door with it sliding shut right after. The silence made Starscream uneasy as he was left alone. For unpleasant as he was, he really did wish the medic didn’t leave so soon. At least then he’d have some sort of distraction from the lingering thoughts that didn’t want to leave no matter how much he tried to force them out. This only made him feel iller.

 

His mind continued to wander, thinking over what his fate would be. There's no doubt in his mind that the Autobots would throw him in a cell and left to rust for the rest of his life. What sympathy did they have for him, anyway? They should have just let him bleed out.

 

Ever since Megatron abandoned him and left him with nothing? After being left alone only to be cornered and beaten with every intention of being terminated?

 

He was better off dead. At least then he wouldn’t have to live with the shame of the mark that he unwilling left on his pitiful life. But to be remembered as a failure? He viewed that to be _far_ worst. Not that he’d be able to change that now.

 

What did it matter? His life was as good as over anyways...

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“Sounds like I missed quite the show,” Knock Out sarcastically remarked as Ratchet approached him a few clicks from the door.

 

“I should have just forced him back into stasis. Or punched Wheeljack in the face. Either one would have gotten them to shut up.” Ratchet rubbed his temple in frustration. “I don’t know how you did it, Knock Out, but you must have been one patient mech.”

 

“You’re implying he never got on my nerves to begin with,” He didn’t look up at the other as he read through a copy of the **Autobot Code** that Ultra Magnus _so graciously_ assigned him. He only read over the prologue and already felt as he was gonna slip into recharge.

 

“I appreciate you stayed out of the room, by the way. With Wheeljack egging him on, the sight of you may have only escalated things further.”

 

Knock Out snorted. “So is that Wheeljack’s favorite past time? Pissing off ‘Cons, Ex ‘Cons included in the hope they’ll snap and give them a reason to fight back? Seems like it’s his talent.”

 

“Is he giving you trouble?”

 

A shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with my share of afts like our friendly neighborhood Wrecker and know better than to take his bait. I try to avoid him the best I can honestly.” He took in a vent before continuing. “By the way, I got the medical records you requested and transferred them to the database. You should be able to access them now.”

 

“Much appreciated.”

 

Knock Out gave a hum in approval, following a long silence between both medics. The former ‘Con was glued to his datapad the whole time they spoke. Ratchet was more than expecting his usual snarky, smug bravo and teasing that he grew to loath over the month. At least more so than the recent conversation entailed. Everything that came out of his mouth almost sounded sterile in comparison.

 

“I can’t believe I’m asking this but,” The older medic said as he returned his own pad within his subspace, “What’s gotten into you?”

 

Knock Out’s optics finally broke from the screen as he stared up to meet with the other’s “Pardon?”

 

“You’ve been far more serious than normal and-”

 

He ridged an eyebrow. “I’m very capable of taking my job seriously when I do. I know, shocking.”

 

“That’s not what I mean! Often you stride your inflated ego all about as if you own the place and often can’t go a single kilt without making a smug remark.”

 

The red mech snorted bitterly at Ratchet’s assumptions. “You don’t know me, Ratchet. Don’t assume you know how my mind operates.”

 

“No, but I’m not blind.”

 

“Blind? Blind to _what?!_  I know none of you trust me, but-”

 

“Yes, I don’t trust you. Not completely anyway, but I know when someone is hiding something.”

 

“Ah yes, ‘ _the ’Con must be hiding something_ ’ claim. As if I _haven’t_ heard that thrown around before?” Knock Out huffed before he continued. “I’ve been nothing but forthcoming this whole time, regardless if you wish to believe it or not. So, no, I’m not hiding anything.”

 

“Well, you may not be hiding anything but I can tell something is bothering you. What is it?”

 

The cherry mech gave a roll of his optics before addressing the other as he attempted to hide any irritation under his playful tone. “Well, _outside_ of you throwing assumptions around, Nothing is!” No, _of course_ something was bothering him but he didn’t need to be _pestered_ about it.

 

Ratchet was only now getting annoyed with the coy act. “This is about Starscream, is it?”

 

Knock Out froze and felt his spark sink.  “What about Starscream?”

 

“Ever since you bought him here and finish stabilizing him, you’ve been asking to be assigned on other duties in any way, leaving me to deal with his mess this whole time as if you’re avoiding something.”

 

“I think I have a good reason for avoiding him, Ratchet.”

 

“I’m not saying you don’t, but you insisted on bring him here and I expect you to play your part in his well being. I may have done well on my own for a while but now that there's another medic here, I’d appreciate you didn’t avoid your responsibilities and loosen my load, thank you **very** much!”

 

He had to fight against rolling his optics again as he snarled. “Yes, I get it; I’ll do my part! Sorry you can’t handle this all on your own.”

 

“Don’t get snippy with me, Knock Out! I’m only-” Ratchet stopped himself from the conversation before becoming more heated. He took a kilt before continuing.

 

“You know you can’t avoid him forever. Eventually, you both are gonna have to address what happened during...well you know. Starscream isn’t a forgiving mech but now that he’s under our care-”

 

“I know.” Knock Out’s tone almost sounded flat as his optics returned to the datapad.

 

“I know you know.” The older medic took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Speaking of such, I’m gonna have to ask you to take overnight shift. I know it isn’t ideal but I do believe I have the right to a well-deserved recharge after working non stop, if you don’t mind.”

 

“...Understood,”

 

With a nod, Ratchet walked off, leaving the halls bare with Knock Out still standing in place, replaying the conversation.

 

Ratchet was right though: He was going to have to face Starscream eventually and deal with the whole mess that they both left behind them. And knowing that fact made his tank turn.

 

He was starting to regret his decision to bring him back with them. As if Starscream would have been grateful for anything an Autobot, let alone a turncoat did for him.  Knock Out didn’t care what the seeker’s fate was going to be after becoming functional again but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that it won’t be kind to him.

 

He...almost felt concern about him.

 

_‘Oh,_ **_now_ ** _you’re starting to feel bad?’_

 

“Shut up,” He mumbled to himself. Damn his guilty conscience sometimes...

  


* * *

 

 

Knock Out fought with himself to finish the second chapter of The Code as he sipped on his energon. He swore that he almost passed out once or twice thanks to such a boring read, making him question if this was part of any normal Autobot initiation or if he just a special case?

 

Isn’t it just as simple to just put it like, I dunno: ‘Don’t kill innocents, freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Decepticons are the enemy and must be stopped. the end?’

 

Pits, this was feeling more of a punishment than an initiation. Or at least a test of patience.

 

“ _Uggh…_ ”

 

The medic vented in defeat as he slouched in his seat. He slid the datapad down on the desk beside him before he lifted his cube once more. His optics shifted to his side as he took in the white noise of the medbay, glancing over to the seeker laying on the berth in recharge since he first started his shift.

 

He took another sip from his energon and focused on its taste. The silence was starting to make the mech restless but he should at least be grateful that he was saved from confronting the other.

 

Knock Out was wrapping his head around why he was even was concern about Starscream and _even_ more confusing was the overbearing fear he couldn’t pinpoint it being due to selling him out to begin with or the inevitably of having to face his demons straight to the face. He kept telling himself that he had to do it but...

 

Either way, it was a confrontation he dreaded. Maybe if he’s lucky, the other will remain-

 

He heard the seeker’s tried groan as he onlined his optics.

 

_‘Scrap. Spoke too soon.’_

 

Still, Knock Out kept his voice leveled and casually muttered, “Rest well?”

 

Still in a half-asleep haze, the seeker turned the direction to the voice. Even with his vision still blurred, he could easily make out who it was. Scra

 

Starscream made any effort to pretend he wasn’t sharing the same room with the other but to no avail. He was surprised his new _teammates_ were perfectly fine with both of them in close proximity of each other. Unless they ordered Knock Out to be the one overseeing his care a way to taunt him further. Just another cruel reminder of how they had him under their thumb.

 

The other wasn’t offended by the silence given. In fact, he welcomed it. Saved his audials from suffering his shrill screeching. He should savor it for as long as it lasted knowing how temperamental Starscream could be.

 

The medic eventually got up on his pedes and strolled over to the berth, grabbing his datapad and loaded up Ratchet’s newly added notes to the seeker’s medical history.

 

Strolling down the document, he sternly asked, “So, how are you feeling?”

 

There was no response. Starscream continued to ignore him as his fist tightened

 

“Or you can keep giving me the silent treatment,” The medic shrugged, “Either one works.”

 

“I have nothing to say to you.”

 

“Well, here’s a suggestion: ‘Thank you Knock Out for saving my sorry aft from whatever stupid mess I got myself into this time.’ Oh, right, that’s asking for too much, is it?”

 

Starscream snarled. “As if I should hardly be thankful to be handed over willingly by a turncoat. Oh, by the way: _How are you_ fitting in with your new _cohorts_? If they trusted you enough to leave you alone with me, they’re more foolish than I originally thought.”

 

Knock Out snorted. Ah, there was that hostile bitterness he was expecting.  His face didn’t fight against giving the seeker a slightly smug grin. “ _I’m_ fitting in _juust_ peachy Starscream, thanks for asking.” A lie, but there had to be a bit of trust if they were fine with him being in the same room as the ex-commander pointed out himself. However, his amusement quickly faded as he rolled his optics. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. If I had it my way I’d stay as far from you as possible.”

 

“That makes both of us then.”

 

“Also, they entrusted me over your care because of our history. You know, with the many times I had to piece you back together.”

 

“At my suspense.” He ignored the little jab in regard to the doctor being honored with the task of patching him up, often, if not always, after Megatron beaten a _lesson_ into him.

 

“Act like you have the moral ground all you want,” He remarked bluntly, “You would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.” Knock Out studied Starscream’s puzzled expression before realizing his choice of wording. “It’s a human expression, sorry.”

 

All he received was silence in response, proving him right. Knock Out took in the quiet between them a little longer before feeling the need to probe about what bugged him since they bought him here.

 

“What happened to you, anyway?”

 

The seeker flinched at the question. “Why do you care?”

 

“I don’t honestly.” No, just a little, but it was more of curiosity than sympathy for the other.  “If you must know, It’s for the medical records.”

 

“It’s none of your business.”

 

“Too bad, I’m making it _my_ business. Ratchet will end up probing you about it if I can’t, so you might want to get it out in the open now than later.”

 

Starscream growled as he wrestled to avoid sharing what happened, too ashamed and disgusted even thinking about it but as much as he hated to admit it, it would have to come out eventually.

 

“So you _really_ want to know?” Starscream almost sounded as if he was growling over his words as his raged build up more. “You want to know what _stupid mess_ I got myself into Knock Out?!” The seeker finally turned to face the other as he glared daggers. “Predaking did _this_ to me!! Him and hi-his henchmonsters!!” His frame started to vibrate, fighting against his processor as it loaded up memory files from the event. “They found me! The-they cornered me when I was alone an-and tortured me! The-they were going to...”

 

His memories finally consumed him. Flashbacks to when he sank into the very throne he craved but was never allowed to have before being tossed into the center of the room. Teeth and claws tearing into him as his energon spattered and stained the beast’s fangs, their roars drowning out his own screams. It was as he was reliving the pain all over again…

 

His cooling fans went to full power as his venting became heavy.

 

_“Starscream?”_ He barely heard the call of his name within his panic.

 

_“Starscream?! Primus, Starscream, snap out of it!!”_

 

He found himself brought back to reality from the light touch that shook his frame. Staring at him straight in the optics was Knock Out, showing concern as his servos laid on his shoulders.

 

“Starscream, you with me?” The medic asked, still gripping onto his torn pauldrons as he hoped he got him back in focus. Starscream was staring straight out, still grasping his whereabouts. It was a start.

 

Knock Out didn’t know what compelled him to act the need to snap him out of his fazed. Medic instincts more than likely, but even then every medic should know to use caution when touching someone going through a panic attack. No, this was something more...

 

Hearing about what happened? Pits, he didn’t even notice Predaking fly off. Explains why they haven’t heard from him or his brethren after the battle with Unicron. Starscream fled right after Megaton went into self-exile as Knock Out stood proudly alongside the Autobots in relief. He was wiped clean of him, no longer some punching bag to be used to release his own frustrations.

 

But any vitriol he felt, any good he thought he did? It vanished.

 

As he was watching The Well breath life once more surrounded by those who told him he was worth something…

 

...Starscream was alone, only to suffer being ripped to shreds and brought down even further. He was left to die and no one would care the wiser.

 

As _he_ celebrated, the other **burned.**

 

All Knock Out could feel now was shame. He left his-

 

_‘No, he never cared about you!! Valued you! He was never your friend, stop fooling yourself!’_

 

Yet even he felt the need to fight with his own conscience. Regardless of what -- _whatever_ their relationship was, he still couldn’t shake off that he left him to his fate. He should have-

 

Whatever, it didn’t matter. What’s past is past and there was no way he could change what happened. No point in worrying about it now.

 

It took a few blinks before Starscream composed himself. He eyed his side and noticed the other’s servos still resting on his shoulders. He responded with a snarl.

 

“Get _your_ hands off me!!” Instinct would have swatted him with his talons if his arms weren’t bounded to the berth. Lucky for him, he _didn’t want_ to scratch the doctor’s finish he all so _admired._ What a tragedy that would be. Thankfully, Knock Out compiled to his request and swiftly let go of the seeker and took a step back. He took a kilt to think only to realize what just happened.

 

_‘Damn it.’_

 

Scrap, he-

 

His body shut down as he thought back to what those beasts did to him, only to unintentionally show how weak he was. How vulnerable, how pitiful, how much a failure he was. And the worst of it that it had to be _Knock Out_ to witness it. Just one more huge slap in the face to drive home how far he has fallen.

 

As if he couldn’t get any lower.

 

The medic collected his thoughts before he softly addressed the other. “Starscream, I’m sorry. I-”

 

“Oh, _you’re_ sorry? Now **you're** sorry after hearing my sob story!!? Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for _that_!” He spat out his last word with such disgust to drive home how meaningless his apology was to him. “I don’t need your pity nor do I want it! Just leave me alone!”

 

The medic didn’t fight back, only bowed his helm in shame. The other however thought back to the very moment when he used the Phase Shifter to grab the Immobilizer out of his hands, only to smack him with it so hard that he spun to the ground to wake up a kilt later, welcomed by Knock Out dragging him down the Nemesis’ halls with the rest of the Autobots before tossing him into the cell. Wiping his hands clean as if he was nothing more than worthless scrap.

 

“Why?”

 

Knock Out stared back up as Starscream spoke. He was barely audible with how low his tone was.

 

“Why did you turn on me? Sell me out? Why did you-?” He choked, not even able to finish his sentence. He shook his helm before continuing. “I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. You always were an opportunist…”

 

The other didn’t add anything, just listened.

 

“And now you so _gracefully_ handed me over to the Autobots to do what they please with me. Must be a trumpet for you, giving up your pride for the ‘winning team’.”

 

How foolish he was to have gotten so close to the medic that he couldn’t imagine him betraying him. That was, until he **did**. But If any good came from Knock Out’s deception it was the lesson he learned once before but somehow forgotten: That he couldn’t trust anyone and he had to watch out _only_ for himself.

 

He let his guard down, let the other bring down his barriers only to be played the fool as the overlord he once served told him he was.

 

He won’t let anyone deceive him again...

 

Knock Out had to bite down on his glossa to hold back himself from debunking the hypocrisy coming from the other. _‘As you’re one to talk.’_ The grounder was too exhausted to fight back and felt he bought the seeker down a peg enough for one cycle.

 

He took in a long, deep vent.

 

“Would you rather I left you to die?” The question was direct without any recoil or smugness. Just straight to the point. He didn’t expect Starscream to answer, but he felt it was needed.

 

Knock Out saw though Starscream’s static scowl to read the subtle confliction as if he was fighting to find an answer himself.

 

_Of course_ he knew he didn’t want to be left to rust, Starscream isn’t one to give up when life turned against him, but the seeker’s pride and stubbornness overshadowed any logic to even the simplest of ideas that someone coming to his aid when he should have been the one to save himself. It was all in a sad attempt to gain the control and respect torn from him. The war had broken him down to the very core, struggling to hold on to whatever dignity he had left.

 

His compulsion to show he was better than (or of use) Megatron or those whom he deemed a challenge.

 

The seeker bit down on his denta as he felt his anger starting the boil again.

 

“Just...just stay from me,” He softly growled.

 

“Star-”

 

**“I SAID STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!”**

 

The flyer shouted at the very top of his vocoder as rage fumed from his optics.

 

“Get **away** from me, you _fragging_ glitch traitor!! Ge-get-” Starscream cut himself short. He was too weak to even threaten the other as his frame tightens in frustration.

 

“Just keep away from me.” This time his request was nothing more but a whisper as if he sounded defeated.

 

“Hey, what’s going on...?”

 

Knock Out turned to face Bumblebee as he stepped into the room.

 

“...I heard yelling down the hall. Is everything alright?”

 

The cherry mech ex-vented before rolling his optics. “Don’t worry Bee, Starscream was just having a hissy fit.”

 

“ _Hissy fit_ ?! I beg _your_ -!!”

 

“Yip yip _yip_ ** _,_** ” Ratchet stomped in as if he was covered by a storm cloud, “Quiet down before I _really_ give you something to be hissy about!” The medic saw Knock Out about to open his mouth, but before he could get a word in he pointed in his direction to zip it. “Not the slightest bit of sass, Knock Out!”

 

All the other mech did in response was shrug. His patient, however, felt appalled by this change of behavior. One second, Knock Out sounded as if he genuinely gave a scrap about him, even if it was out of pity for the seeker than anything else. Now, here he is, cracking his usual snark and making it sound as if he was a burden forced on him.

 

Maybe the change was to save face in front of his new cohorts or he was a far better actor than he ever realized.

 

A part of Starscream, as much as he hated even being near him, wanted to believe Knock Out was sincere in his concern but that’d be too good to be true. Why would anyone care about an old, wash up air commander? Even that coward Megatron saw no use for him other than being his personal punching bag.

 

No matter, the Autobots were nothing more but _a_ setback. As were **those** beast that intended to end him. He’ve been to the Pits and back before, this will be no different.

 

Once he was operational again and found the right time and moment, he’ll break himself free and return to-

 

...He...wasn’t sure _exactly_ what he was to ‘return to’. Rebuild the Decepticons? Survival? For the first time in many vorns; he felt at a loss. So much has happened, some which he was completely out of the loop thanks for being in stasis lock for the last few solar cycles and doubtful his captures would catch him up to speed. He had no idea which high-rank officers were even still standing after this whole mess.

 

He abandoned Shockwave after the whole Terrorcon Predacon thing. Likely offline now. Soundwave’s whereabouts however was a complete enigma. He hasn’t been heard from since Megatron’s _temporary_ death, and for him to vanish just like that? It seemed uncharacteristic of him to flee from a battle, no matter how lost it may have been. Yet again, the seeker never understood what made the communications officer tick with his whole ‘vow of silence’ shtick.

 

Starscream had no concrete goal or a backup plan to fall on, but perhaps he’ll make one up as he goes. Right now, he should just focus on getting out of his situation. If he can...

 

Ratchet vented exhaustedly as he rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. “Is it really asking **too much** for a mech to get some shut eye for once?”

 

“Ask Starscream, he was the-”

 

“Knock Out, seriously,” Bumblebee just looked unimpressed as he addressed the other, “Do you really think it’s in anyone's right interest to rile him up more?”

 

“Which one? Both are prone to getting pissy.”

 

Starscream let out a snarl as Ratchet just groaned. “Knock Out, you’re off the clock,” The other medic ordered before mumbling under his breath, “It was a mistake for me to put you in charge with him alone.”

 

The red mech shrugged as he strolled to the direction to the door. “I _did_ tell you it was a bad idea.”

 

“So you did.” Ratchet didn’t argue further with him other than shaking his helm. “You’re still on call in case I need an extra servo, however. I’m gonna ask you to look over Ultra Magnus if I have the honor of focusing my attention to this pain in the aft. He’s stable now but it wouldn’t hurt to have an optic on him.”

 

“Treasure the thought, doctor.” Starscream blurred out sarcastically but was ignored.

 

“Oh, _now_ you trust me to be in charge of The Big UB’s well being?! You seemed quite-!”

 

“ _I_ recall _what_ I said you don’t need to remind me, but it isn’t like I have much of a choice now, do I?”

 

“...No, guess not.”

 

The other medic didn’t respond, not that there was anything else to add. Knock Out headed out the door as Bumblebee followed.

 

“Hey, you alright Knock Out?”

 

Knock Out turned his helm to face the seeker one last time before responding to the other’s query.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

The door shut behind them as Ratchet gave a sigh of relief. “Has anyone ever told you how much of a piece of work you are?”

 

“Hardly. At least not to my face.”

 

“Oh, I can take a good guess why they don’t.”

 

“The _quality_ of medical care around here is quite abysmal, doctor. Can you please direct me to where I can send my complaints? I have plenty to grieve about.”

 

Ratchet replied with a snort. “As if I don’t deal with enough sass already.” Still, he let it slide. The medic was exhausted, regardless if the task was putting up with Starscream’s whining or making sure to patch all injuries the Vehicons may have endured during construction or other assignments.

 

He rubbed his temple before letting out a long, drawn-out vent. “I think I gave you my recommendation to n _ot_ strain yourself.”

 

Starscream huffed, “Well, perhaps if you didn’t leave me alone with _that_ complacent glitch, I wouldn’t be so high strung right now.”

 

“Yeah, well, sadly him and me are all you got right now if you plan on still functioning in the future.”

 

“Why are you wasting your time on me, doctor?  I’m sure you Autobots already plan on throwing me in prison for the rest of my life. Does it matter if I live or die?”

 

“Yes, that’s the most plausible scenario, but that still doesn't mean I don’t have my obligations to give those the right to the best medical attention possible, no matter their criminal record or how much they’re getting on my nerves.”

 

The seeker rolled his optics but didn’t comment. Ratchet took out his datapad and focused on adding new information before he continued.

 

“Well, your vitals are normal and there seems to not be any complications that I can see. Are you in any pain, have nausea or anything that’s abnormal?”

 

“No, doctor, I’m _perfectly_ fine.”

 

Ratchet picked up that his patient was irritated by the question but continued. “I’m gonna take your word for it. If you do happen to start feeling or experiencing anything that’s out of the ordinary, _please_ address it. Knock Out mentioned you never took the best care of yourself and unlike him, _I will_ probe you about it! Now, if you’re done waking up everyone at base for one night; can I leave you alone without making a scene so I can try to get a power recharge in? You’re stable enough that you don’t need extensive monitoring.”

 

“It’s not like I can go anywhere…”

 

“Good. I’ll check back on you later. As I said, don’t stress yourself out and try to get some rest…”

 

And with that, Ratchet headed out the door. As it slid shut, Starscream let the silence resonate but couldn’t fall into recharge thanks for being lost in his own mind. At least it gave him time to think over a possible escape plan. Perhaps some of his Decepticons cohorts were still out there fighting and unlike some mechs, would never sell themselves out to the Autobots nor face defeat. Megatron may have given up, but he won’t! He was his loyal second in command and pits was he gonna let these feckless do-gooders take control of Cybertron’s future!

 

Somehow, he’ll gain his freedom...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who commented on the last chapter. This took me longer than I thought it would but glad I got it done and hope it was worth the wait. I don't know when the next chapter will be out being I'm also working on other projects plus, well, ya know life is a thing. 
> 
> I'm gonna finish up this arc before putting this fic on a semi-hiatus so I can finalize and smooth out the direction I want to take this self-indulgent fic. I have an idea in my head but gotta make it flow and feel natural, you know.
> 
> 'Til next time =3


	3. Arc 1.2 [Chapter Three]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Starscream continues to be one of the most insufferable of patients, Knock Out reveals a important fact about himself and Ratchet is holding on to whatever sanity he has left...

 

**Chapter Three**

  
  


Another two solar cycles went by. Starscream made a promise to himself to keep track of time ever since he woke up from stasis lock and learned his chronometer stopped functioning. What more was he capable of doing, anyways? He was held captive by the Autobots, and outside of that was desperately trying to come up with an escape plan, _any_ plan.

 

And yet as he plotted, his mind came up blank. Nothing, not even the _least_ plausible scenario was cropping up and that brewed more hate not only for his situation but for himself. He hated the feeling of helpless, everything out of his control. He needed to be in charge. But now it felt as if his own frame and processor had all given up on him, even if he refused to face defeat _personally_. 

 

Even if he had a plan, what luck did he have if he didn’t have the means to execute it? His weapon functions were deactivated, and the rockets usually fasten to his arms were used in his escape from Darkmount. He could barely walk, let alone stand up straight without support as his right wing remained in shreds. What made it worse however was the _desperate itch_ to fly.

 

The seeker was finally starting to feel the effects of flight withdraw, not that _any_ grounders would understand the physical and psychological terms of it.  It’ll be unlikely to turn into madness anytime soon; he was grounded for a good few months back on Earth without _completely_ going insane. At least here they had the Spark to keep him fueled. Being left to starvation would had sped things along…

 

He couldn’t rely on anyone's help either. The Vehicons seemed very committed and content to be ordered around by the Autobots and Pits did he know if there were any other Decepticons on Cybertron being his lack of contact with outside the base.

 

And the case with Knock Out? He had given up on that traitor since the last time they spoke. He didn’t even attempt to convince him that _‘he didn’t belong here’_ or _‘We’re both on the same side!’_ , Not that he’d budge or turn to his way of thinking. Starscream wasn’t even sure if he wanted him as a possible ally anyways? Just the sight of that smug glitch was more than enough to make his tank turn.

 

 _Even_ if he said ‘all could be forgiven’ and welcomed the medic back to the ranks if he re-pledged his loyalty after he felt unsatisfied with the Autobot rhetoric (which he was dead sure he would): It’ll be all an act.

 

After what Knock Out did to him? Why, he _was_ to blame for the **whole** mess to begin with! If he just played along and helped him reclaim the Nemesis from the Autobots, they would have taken control and thrown the enemy out the airlock, leaving them to be devoured by Unicron.

 

 If he _didn’t_ pull the rug from under him; perhaps he wouldn’t have been abandoned, _left to die_ by the claws of **those** beasts.

 

If he stood by his side, perhaps he wouldn’t feel so _alone_.

 

“...”

 

…Why did he care so much about what Knock Out did to begin with? He must have some ulterior motive from the very beginning. Why wouldn’t he? They were _Decepticons_ after all. Starscream had no qualms using others as pawns in a game if it meant accomplishing his goals or getting ahead. Pits, the cutthroat halls of Vos was all about playing your cards right in order to survive the political climate. The weather was constantly changing and he had to adapt in order to persist at its game and it all came second nature to him. He was prepared for this far before the thought of Cybertron even break out into a civil war lasting millennia, but maybe that was why? The former winglord wasn’t what he once used to be. After being worn down by it all, perhaps it was only inevitable he’d slowly lose his craft in time.

 

 It was a brutal game but It should never be taken personal: It was just the way it was played. Yet here he was, taking it _personally_. What made the grounder the exception to the rule?

 

No matter, he didn’t need _that glitch_ anyways. What he needed was a way to get out of here.

 

_Perhaps that coul- No, no, out of the question! Or maybe…_

 

Blank.

 

Starscream let out a frustrated grunt, curling into himself on the berth as his new surroundings felt as if they were closing down on him. They already moved him out of the medbay a cycle ago. Sure, he hated sitting idly in the medbay listening to his own energy readings and hearing Ratchet grumpling about how his work was cut out for him, but at least it felt open if, dare he say, welcoming! He was basically now living in what was basically a tiny storage unit with barely enough room to roam. It felt as if he was being choked and with the door locked from the outside at all times, his claustrophobia only intensified.

 

He was still in need of repairs but was stable enough to function without the need of machinery or intense monitoring. Or as he overheard Knock Out say:  _“It’d be nice to have the space for someone of_ **_actual_ ** _importance, right Ratchet?”_   That enough confirmed how little he always viewed him.

 

That was likely how everyone did: _Insignificant._

 

He recalled what Megatron said about him, to _Shockwave_ as if it wasn’t pouring _more_ salt in the wound, after discarding any suggestion the seeker thought would help his cause. _Megatron’s_ cause:

 

_“No, no one important.”_

 

And the more time passed, the more Starscream started to believe it. Whatever importance he once held or those who valued him were _long gone_. The war took all he loved and if not by the war itself, Megatron made sure it was destroyed by his own servos, among with any support or power base that gave him an edge.

 

All the seeker had left at the end was only to serve. Until Megatron took that from him too...

 

Even as much as he wanted to scream vengeance on him, to rip out his very Spark from his chassis; he also felt as if his life was nothing without the warlord giving him a purpose after tearing away the seeker’s own. 

 

He grown so dependent on Megatron to the point that he just hoped- no, _prayed to Primus_ ** _himself_** he would come running back. That his change of Spark was just a ploy so the Autobots wouldn’t go after him as he attempted to gather the remaining Decepticons scattered throughout space and form an army to retake back Cybertron, even if it was _a_ Cybertron he’d have no place in. He’d be viewed as too weak and pathetic that he couldn’t likely survive a world where the strong strive over the weak or deemed of any value to the warlord’s eyes. Perhaps if he was lucky, he’d take him in out of pity, cry how he wishes nothing but to serve him so he-

 

...The fact that he was begging for himself to be taken in as _a slave_ **disgusted of him to no end.** It only drove home how little of his pride he had left.

 

The more his thoughts consumed him, the more he felt the walls closing in tighter with every intent to crush him. He was unsure if it was from his own dirty stain that he saw left of him or his withdrawal was worse than he originally thought but whatever it was, he was taken out of his trance when his audials heard the door unlocked. Thank Primus he was saved from his own mind.

 

... _Or_ perhaps he shouldn’t have been so quick to thank anyone after realizing who it was that entered the room, carrying a cube of Energon in her hands.

 

“Rise and shine, ‘Scream,” Arcee coldly remarked as she slammed the door behind her with her pede, “And before you squawk: No, I’m not here to execute you so your wings can stop twitching.”

 

He didn’t bark back right away, just kept watching her every move as he rose up from the berth into a comfortable sitting position. Eventually he piped, “Bold of you to assume that would have been my first thought when seeing you.”

 

“Bold of you to assume _I_ wouldn’t assume, let alone _actually_ do it,” She smiled playfully for only the seeker to react with optics wide and wings tensing up. After getting the reaction she wanted, her smirk weakened and she appeared more stern. “Trust me, as much as I’d love to snuff your spark, I wouldn’t scoop to your level. That and it’d be unfair to have an advantage over someone who can’t defend himself at the moment.”

 

The seeker glared daggers at her but not before looking down at his own servos, cuffs restraining and securing his wrist. A precaution, of course. That still didn’t persuade him to not spread his razor sharp talons out, flashing a vile sneer. “I can still slash your chassis open if I so please.” An empty threat, grated; he wasn’t dense enough to risk losing whatever ‘hospitality’ his captures offered him but it gave him enough satisfaction of a sense of agency, even at a shallow level.

 

Arcee saw through it, enough for her to respond with a humored snort while still appearing firm. She wouldn’t entertain him however, or give him the little control he desired. She planned to keep the seeker grounded from his own delusional self grandeur and that would start from not taking his bait. 

 

“I’d be careful who you threaten, Starscream. We may be merciful now but unlike some of my colleagues, I don’t have enough patience in the world to deal with your scrap.” As quickly she addressed her last word, she slid the cube down on the berth, optics full of disdain. “Here’s your breakfast. Eat up.”

 

Starscream rose an eyebrow at her, then glared back to the cube, then back to her. “How do I know this isn’t poisoned?”

 

“You must have been a hoot at parties before the war.”

 

“Apparently you never attended a gala in Vos. It’s never a party unless someone gets assassinated.”

 

The femme just rolled her optics. “Shut up _and_ eat already. I have other duties to attend to and one of them is not to spend the rest of my cycle listening to you muse about the ‘good ol’ days’.”

 

“You wound me.”

 

“Oh, _I’ll wound_ you alright....”

 

He flinched slightly but it was subtle enough that he hoped Arcee didn’t pick up on it. She did, but said nothing of it.

 

Weary, Starscream grabbed the cube of Energon but yet to take a sip. His paranoia got the better of him and it only intensified with the other still sharing the space with him as she leaned her frame on the wall with her arms crossed. The seeker kept optics on the femme at all times, watching her movements and actions as if he was a predator stalking his prey...

 

Arcee’s patiences was wearing thin however. She ex-vented in frustration. “ _Primus,_ it _isn’t_ poisoned Starscream! As if we really wanted to waste our time attempting to murder you after fixing you.” _Honestly_ , she was just as displeased with this arrangement as he was. Why did he have to make every mundane task difficult?

 

“That’s **not** what concerns me.”

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

“Well, it’d be nice if I didn’t have _someone_ staring me down as they’re fantasising about tearing _me limb by limb!_ ”

 

Her frame bounced off the wall, optics burning in rage. “As you’re one to talk!”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did _I_ ever make you nervous when wanting to refuel but making it hard to do so? I don’t recall.”

 

“No, you’ve done **worst!** You have no right to complain about feeling uncomfortable being kept a close eye on when you’re the one who has Energon on his hands!”

 

Starscream’s optics flickered on and off as his helm was processing what she just spewed out of her mouth. After composing himself, his frame straightened and lip plates forming an amused smile. A part of him wanted to laugh, to mock how small her scope on reality was, but he fought against it. He choose to stay stern this time around.

 

  “As do you.” He was blunt in his speech. The seeker wasn’t going to sugarcoat or pretty up his words for her, he was going all in with the harsh reality regardless if she wanted to hear it or not. “ _It’s war_ Arcee! It’s brutal, it’s unpleasant and importantly, it’s _sometimes_ necessary. Every single one of us, regardless of which side we were on, has drops of Energon on our hands.”

 

“I know what war is, Starscream,” She retorted as she lifted a digit aimed at him, her voice rising with each sentence, “But unlike you, I didn’t _enjoy_ it!”

 

“Oh, you believe _I_ _enjoyed_ it?”

 

“Yes, you did! You _even_ reveled in it!! You had no problem killing unarmed mechs and had little sympathy for any you slayed with your own talons, Cliffjumper included! You-”

 

Arcee was cut off by the seeker’s loud and frustrated groan. _“Primus o’mighty_ , **enough** about _Cliffjumper already_!”

 

She gave a snort as she folded her arms again. “Thanks for proving my point.”

 

“No,” Starscream took a risk and stood up on his pedes, a futile endeavor as his legs were giving out on him but caught himself from falling to his knees by pushing his weight on the wall closest to him for support. “No **_NO_** ; I didn’t prove _your_ point! Yes, _I_ killed him! **_I_** _killed_ him _because_ he was **the** enemy! Did I gloat about? Sure, I won’t deny it nor apologies for being the one to take his life, but you act as if I did it to get to _you_! News flash Arcee, you _aren’t_ as important as you believe you are!”

 

“That’s rich coming from you, o’ _Lord_ Starscream.”

 

“Point out my hypocrisy all you want, I don’t care, that still doesn’t change the fact you have become so obsessed with your partners’ deaths that it has put you in danger to the point that _I_ had to save _your_ foolish aft from being ripped to shreds! Let _that_ settle in your **thick helm** for a bit!”

 

Before Arcee could get a word in, Starscream’s snicker cut her off as he continued. “You act like you’re the _only_ one who lost someone in this Primus forsaken war. Look around you. Every single soldier, Autobot _and_ Decepticon, every non-combatant who were caught in the middle: They lost something. _Everyone_ did, but please, do continue to make it all about yourself.”

 

Arcee’s fist tightened. Listening to every word Starscream had to say only tempted her to want to offline this smug glitch more. Perhaps some time ago, she would have without hesitation but she’s better than that. Vengeance wouldn’t get her anywhere, she knew that now. But it didn’t hurt any less.

 

It hurt because it was _the truth_.

 

Like it or not, he was right and it burned as if a blade was being thrust through her and the knife being twisted ever so deeper the more she thought back on his words. Her emotions always got the better of her, clouding her judgement where she was beyond one to reason with and yes, it _has_ gotten her almost killed plenty of times. Regardless if it was Cliffjumper or Tailgate, she could never get past their deaths. 

 

It didn’t change the fact that it came out of a mech who held little sympathy for anyone but himself. Pits, Optimus _sacrificed_ himself for _all_ of Cybertron and Starscream still felt the need to spit on his grave.

 

Sure, he was no Arachnid, a sadist who got nothing but a kick out of murdering her victims. The seeker only killed out of necessity, not pleasure. The lesser of two evils, but that didn’t do much to change that he was a vile piece of scrap and she allowed herself for him to get under her plating. 

 

“...as if you know anything about loss,” She mumbled under her breath. Arcee was very sure the seeker heard her if his bitter snicker was to be any indicator, but _that_ snicker quickly turned into manic laughter. 

 

“What do I know about loss?” He continued to sound humored but his EM field hinted that would swiftly change. His talons tightened around the cube of energon that he seldom forgotten about, cracks forming around the glass. Starscream chrenched down on denta as his own frame, still relying on the wall to keep him upright, shook in anger. “What do _you_ know?” His optics fumed with hatred that he could no longer tame, rage finally at its peak. 

 

No longer able to hold his anger at bay: He abruptly was able to throw the cube with such a force that it shattered on impact, fluid dripping down the wall behind the femme as her optics widen in shock.

 

**_“WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT I LOST!!?!”_ **

 

Arcee took a step back. She was unsure if the cube was aimed at her and luckily missed or if it was just a quick reaction out of anger but her flight or fight protocols kicked in and transformed one of her pistols at him. Maybe she was playing with fire, but she wasn’t going to risk her, or the others at base’s life if he did go berserk. Hopefully the seeker had the sense not to strike back physically. He was in no shape to fight.

 

“Please, enlighten me,” He huffed between words as he fought to keep himself from falling to his knees. “Tell me, being you seem _such_ an expert on my life that you know every risk _I_ took, everything I willingly gave up, every _costly mistake_ I made in hope to see Cybertron have a brighter future? How rewarded I was for serving under _a madman_ who had no intention of ending the war but for it to be an end in itself, even if it meant **destroying everything** in the progress!? Wasting his time renewing _his_ petty spat between _your_ Prime when he had victory close in his grasp!!

 

“Why do you think a high caste air commander from Vos all so willingly joined a movement made up of lower caste workers and miners, _hmm_ ? So willing to fight against a system that kept Cybertron’s society at a standstill? For power? Ambition? Yes, those things but I _truly_ did believe in the cause. _Not_ Megatron’s Cause, _The Decepticons_ ! So much I was willing to wrestle him for it so things didn’t exlate the way they did! _And_ you know what it bought me, Arcee? 

 

"It brought me nothing but pain _and_ humiliation! Death _and_ destruction to everything I cared for with the worst part of it that most of it wasn’t because of your- **_GAHSCRAP!!_ ** ”

 

A sharp pain was felt just above his cockpit, reflexes quickly reacting to take his servo to hold the area but with his wrist bonded, it made it impossible. That was more than enough to lose his balance and fall to his side, hissing between denta and cursing to himself to the Pits and back.

 

“Scrap! Starscream,” Arcee’s arm transformed as she slowly approached with caution in hope she could at least manage to get this stubborn aft back on the berth, “You straining yourself isn’t going to help you heal-”

 

“Stay away from me!,” He screeched, swatting his arms in her direction as optics still burned in anger as he glared her down, communicating his point that he didn’t want her to approach him further. Thankful, Arcee took the hint and took a step back.

 

He was pissed. No, **infuriated**. 

 

How dare she? how _fragging_ dare she say to his face he didn’t know what it was like to lose something. That all the pain he went though: The torture, the abuse, the crushing of his pride? That it had no effect on him at all?

 

 ...No, of course she’d think that. All Autobots had a black and white way of thinking that every mech wearing a Decepticon Badge was some kind of monster who only killed and destroyed. They wanted to return home just like any ‘Bot did. Or perhaps they did see that but he was just the expectation to the rule. When did they ever show him mercy? When did anyone?

 

Starscream managed to get himself to a functional thinking level so he could collect his thoughts. He shook his helm, optics eyeing the floor.  “You know _nothing_ about what I lost,” He growled, “Not by a long shot…” 

 

“Please tell me he isn’t making _another_ scene?!” Said a muffled voice from behind the door. Arcee turned around once Ratchet stormed in as frustrated as ever. “What did I tell you-!” The medic didn’t finish once taking slight of his patient lying on the ground, wings drooped downwards and twitching. He studied enough on seeker body language to understand it was a sign of distress. 

 

 “Oh, _for Primus_ sake,” He rubbed his forehelm with his digits, “I- Arcee, help me get this _pain in my side_ back on his berth, _please!”_

 

“If he’d let me, that is.”

 

The seeker groaned but didn’t protest as the femme approached him alongside the medic. Slowly but surely, the two manage to get the other back on the berth, but not without the patient wrenching in pain.

 

“ _Owowowow_ **_OW_ ** \- _Scrap_ , could you be _any less careful_!?”

 

“Stop acting like a newspark, Starscream,” Arcee mocked, “You did this to yourself.”

  
“Well _maybe_ if someone didn’t-!!”  


“Both of you! Shut it! You’re giving me a migraine.” Ratchet let out a long, drawn out vent. “What exactly did he do to tick you off?”

 

“Tick _her_ off?!” The seeker started to get riled up again, “Why is it I always take the blame for-!”

 

“Things got heated Ratchet,” Arcee interrupted the other and before he could add anything, she continued, “And It’s partially my fault. Personal feelings got the better of me and things escalated from there.” The femme’s optics turned to Starscream, silently conveying that he too should drop the issue and move on. It took him a bit off guard, but he hoped his silence gave her a satisfying acknowledgement that he agreed with her sentiment.

 

“Well,” Ratchet took a canister of liquid pain killer out of his subspace and attached it to a syringe, “Like it or not, we’re stuck with him for a while so I advise you try to play nice.” The medic returned his attention to his patient. “This is only amount I can give you safely at the moment but it should be enough to dull the pain.” He injected it into the seeker’s arm, receiving a soft yelp in response. “It should kick in in a klik or two but _please_ don’t strain yourself any further. We have limited resources and Cybertron is lacking in pharmacies if you couldn’t tell.”

 

Starscream didn’t add any commentary. After a while, the silence started to get to him. A distraction, regardless of its level of annoyance, would have been welcomed if it kept his mind from wandering. 

 

It became too much and he felt the desperate need to say something, _anything_ , just so there can be a break in it.

 

“I hope you aren’t going to keep me grounded forever, Doctor. When do you plan on fixing my wing?”

 

Arcee let out a huff, “Like we’re going to let you fly so fast, if ever.”

 

The medic could sense Starscream becoming tense but quickly blurred out something to ease the tension. “What Arcee _means_ is that we can’t repair your wing at this time.” Arcee was about to protest against her intended wording but choose to keep her mouth shut this time around as Ratchet tended to his patient. “We don’t have the resources for cold reconstruction and it isn’t high in regard of priorities now. As I said, we’ll discuss it at a later date.”

 

The seeker rolled his optics, “I’m not an idiot, doctor! Just say you’re planning on keeping me grounded forever and be done with it! At least then I’ll rest easy so when you throw me into whatever forsaken Pit for all my life, I can prepare myself for when I finally snap. Not that a grounder would understand anything abo-.”

 

“-Flight withdraw,” Ratchet finished his sentence. “Yes, I’m well aware. _I am_ a certified medic after all regardless what you believe my frame type may do with it.” He vented frustratedly. “Don’t think I haven’t put that into consideration, Starscream. I have your best interest in mind health wise. What happens to you outside of my jurisdiction is out of my-”

 

“Doctor.”

 

Both Autobots turned to behind them. Standing by the entrance was Ultra Magnus, posture straight and formal, frame dented out and looking as if he was his old self again outside of the need of extra support in the form of leg braces and a cane.

 

“Ultra Magnus,” Arcee clicked her heels and greeted him with a salute, “It’s great to see you back on your pedes, Sir.”

 

“At ease soldier,” The commander politely raised his hand, “As much as it’s appreciated, I’m willing to give a little leeway on formalities for the future.”

 

Her optics widened progressing his request, but eventually loosened up while still minding her matters. “Of course, sir.”

 

“Magnus,” Ratchet finally addressed him, “I know you’re eager to get back to it; but I’d still take it easy. You did take a beating, after all.”

 

He nods his helm. “Noted. I don’t plan on going back on the field so quickly doctor, if that’s your concern, but I can’t lay in berth all day when things need to be done. We have plenty of work ahead of us.”  Magnus returned his focus to the femme. “Arcee, you’re needed by the groundbridge.”

 

“On it, sir.” Without question, Arcee left the room and walked to her intended location.

 

“Hey Ratch,” Bulkhead arrived right outside the door, lifting equipment above his knees, being mindful not to hit his commander with it as he strolled in, “I got the fan you wanted. Still don’t get why we’re bending over backwards for this sla-” The heavy spotted Starscream, causing him to plause for a klik. “Um, I mean, _your_ patient.”

 

“Speaking of such,” Magnus gave his attention to the seeker, “I was informed we had a prisoner under our charge.”

 

Starscream looked over to Magnus, but remained silent. It was more of a formality that he had attention than anything else.

 

“Yes, that is correct,” Ratchet stood back up before continuing, “I’m assuming you wish to speak to our guest?”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

“Would you like some privacy or...?”

 

“That won’t be necessary doctor if you wish to remain.”

 

“Well,” Bulkhead carelessly tossed the fan to his side and stomped deeper into the room beside Ultra Magnus, “I ain’t leaving you alone with him neither! I don’t trust that slagger _one_ bit.”

 

“My, my, Bulkhead, I see you’re using that _famous_ Wrecker logic of yours. Even crippled, you still believe I’m a threat. Why, I’m flattered.”

 

The Wrecker transformed his servor into his wrecking ball with every intent of throwing a punch at the seeker. “I dare you to say that again so I can pound you back into s-!”

 

“ _Bub-bu-bu_ ,” Ratchet put his arm in his path to block him from taking a step further, “If you are so inclined to stay Bulkhead, I expect you to _behave_ yourself.”

 

He responded with an irritated grunt. “Sure thing Doc,” Bulkhead transformed his servo back to normal before giving Starscream another death glare, “But if he tries _anything_ , safely gloves are coming off!”

 

Starscream tensed. Bulkhead was a ticking time bomb and he feared that if it weren’t for the other two in the room, he would have already beaten him to a pulp. There was no need to aggravate him more than needed.

 

The seeker straightened his frame to appear confident. “What is it you wish to discuss with me, Commander?” he addressed Magnus professional.

 

“Yes, of course,” Ultra Magnus cleared his vocalizer, “We’ve been searching and stripping the Nemesis for supplies and resources. We also been searching through the ships databank for anything that cou-”

 

Starscream’s optics fummed in anger. “ _And what_ authority do you have snooping around at clasfi-?!” The seeker swiftly stopped before he spoke further. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t the one running the show and best to mind his boundaries. 

 

_Oh, how I hate this..._

 

“Nevermind. I’m sure there is something you need from me if you’re bringing your looting to my attention.”

 

“That’s... _one way_ of phrasing it, I suppose, but yes. We were hoping that perhaps if the Decepticons had anything that could aid in the reconstruction process.”

 

“Oh, and what gives you the idea that you’ll find anything of use?”

 

“We don’t, but we couldn’t get far regardless. Most of the flies were heavily encrypted and we lack authorization to access them so-”

 

“What a pity,” Starscream interrupted sarcastically.

 

“- _So they’re_ out of our reach at the moment. You were Megatron’s Second in Command so we’d ho-”

 

“Ah, so _you_ do remember my title. Would have fooled me.”

 

Ultra Magnus was losing his patience, not that the other could tell under his neutral expression. “I don’t care for your tone, soldier.”

 

“ _And_ I don’t care for your exposition, Commander. Get on with it: What is it that you want?!”

 

“Well, before you interrupted, I was going to ask if you’d perhaps assist us. When you are in better health, of course. There's no rush.”

 

“Again, what makes you think I’ll help you willingly? Oh, right, _you don’t._ ”  He shook his helm.  “You’re more than likely to find weapon schematics and research you would deem too unethical to use. Surely nothing that would hold interest to you Autobots.”

 

Ratchet just rubbed his temple with an annoyed groan before leading in to his superior officer. “I should have warned you that he’s a piece of work.”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle, Doctor,” He then returned his attention back to Starscream. “I don’t expect you to agree to anything, but right now you’re our best option.”

 

A sinister grin then stretched across Starscream’s lip plate. “You seem to be a reasonable mech, Commander. How about we make a deal: I help you access your files, you let me go free.”

 

It didn’t take Ultra Magnus long to progress his request. He replied sternly. “Your freedom is non negotiable, Starscream.”  

 

The seeker rolled his optics in response. “Of course it’s not,” He growled between cruntched denta. “How could I forget that _I’m_ a war criminal, yet you let others walk free or join your ranks.” A bitter snort. “Hypocrites,” He said under his breath before turning to Magnus again. “Well then, I won’t help you.”

 

“I don’t know what was your former cohort’s reasoning in his change of affiliations, let alone know him well enough to make further judgement.”

 

 In truth, Ultra Magnus didn’t know what to think about Knock Out yet, outside of believing his turn was fueled by selfish motives than a genuine want to change. The mech seemed to have a hard time adjusting to his new setting let alone his little regard and respect for the chain of command. He was another Wheeljack waiting to happen but at least the Wrecker was able to curb his more _destructive_ tendencies and for as much of a handful he could still be at times, they still both managed to form a mutual understanding and respect which made Wheeljack easier to read and trust.

 

Knock Out was more or less of a mystery to him and there was an aloofness to him that only made it much harder for him to translate. Only time will tell if the former Decepticon will be an asset or a burden to the team. 

 

“But I’m not here to discuss his case, I’m here to discuss yours. You need to get over yourself, soldier. While I don’t agree with Optimus’ decision of letting Megatron go, he did choose a peaceful route and put the war behind him. So should you.” 

 

Oh, he just had to bring up Megatron and his ‘change of spark’. 

 

“Don’t you _dare_ attempt to compare me to _that coward_!!” He discarded what Ratchet said earlier about straining himself and furiously tried to get back on his pedes in some sad attempt to stand tall and gain a bit of authority into the conversation. “ _I_ _was_ second in command, or did you just so happen to forget that fact just now?! And being Megatron so _graciously_ forfeit his leadership, I am the _rightful_ heir to the-!” Starscream hissed as the sharp pain came back with a vengeance, causing him to slip back onto the berth. That still didn’t get him to stop talking however. “I’m the leader now. They’ll follow me, they’ll-”

 

“Megatron _disbanded_ the Decepticons,” Ultra Magnus didn’t come across as hostile more than he did stern when he cut the other off, but it did the job to get the seeker off his delusional rambling, “Not forfeit it! Neither of those titles, former or future, hold weight anymore.”

 

The seeker snarled, both from irritation and pain. “The Decepticons _didn’t_ begin and end with him. It’s _not_ over because he said it is!” 

 

“So you want to continue fighting a war even when peace can now be achieved?”

 

“ _Of course_ I don’t want to continue the war, It’s the reason why-! ** _”_**   No, snapping at them wouldn’t help. If anything, it would be wise to stay in Magnus’ good graces and if not that, at least to keep him from not harming himself any further. But talking to the Autobots was like speaking to a wall: unresponsive, if not annoying. When his mind became less clouded, he collected himself and thought over how to approach the situation without triggering a negative response. 

 

 “What do you think is going to happen once Cybertronians return from their exodus, Commander? Do you truly believe that those who still proudly wear the Brand are going to lay down their weapons and follow you willingly? That just because you tell them what their former leader said out of their earshot that they’ll believe you and submit ? I always saw you Autobots as feckless, but I didn’t believe you were foolish to assume that just because you won the war it automatically meant peace was achieved.”

 

It took a moment for Ultra Magnus to collect his thoughts before he responded. “We...we have taken those concerns into consideration and are in the middle of setting up precautions to prevent the chance of hostilities breaking out. In the worst case scenario…”

 

Starscream didn’t like Magnus’ answer to his ‘ _worst case scenario_ ’. It was too vague and reeked of possible harsh repercussions. “And what are those precautions, may I ask?” 

 

Ratchet, after a long silence, forced himself into the conversation and jabed a digit at the seeker. “You’re now over reaching your boundaries, Starscream!”

 

“I was asking a simple question, doctor.”

 

“While acting like you have the authority to ask _those_ questions! I’ve grown enough patience to put up with your worst scrap, but if you believe I will stand by and let you disrespect-!”

 

“Disrespect?! If stating my opinion is disrespectful, dear doctor, I wonder what you’d call authoritarian once you manage to piece together a government that will blow up in your face...”

 

Bulkhead let out a loud annoyed groan. “Why are we putting up with this smug aft? Don’t see why we can’t just toss him in the slammer and throw away the key!”

 

“Wait,” The seeker’s frame tensed as optics cautiously shifted back between Ultra Magnus and Ratchet, “You don’t still attend to throw me in prison, do you?”

 

The Wrecker snorted. “It’s better than you deserve.”

 

“Bu-but, I-I... wouldn’t that be a waste?”

 

“You _are_ a waste.”

 

“I wasn’t speaking to you, you!- _Um_ I mean,” _Come on Starscream, what happened to that silver tongue of yours!? Think of something!_ “I-I, what I mean, it’d be a waste of _my_ talents.” And at that very moment, all he could think to himself was how he was possibility digging himself into a deeper and deeper grave.

 

Ultra Magnus seemed to continue to stand there baffled while Ratchet couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow. In confusion or amusement (or both) the seeker couldn’t tell. The Autobot commander was first to break the silence, “And what would those talents be?”

 

 _Scrap_ . In all honestly he had no idea what he was trying to play them at or even knew what he was talking about.  That was until his processor lit up with an idea. _You idiot you have a plan in the making here and you only now picked up on it!_

 

“Well, it’s-” Starscream calmed himself the best he could before he continued, “Obviously you could use extra servos. Rebuilding Cybertron isn’t going to be an easy task and a small band of Autobots won’t cut it. Even with the Vehicons who you _forced_ into labor-”

 

“We didn’t force them, most choose to help out of their own free will,” Magnus interrupted leaving no opening for Starscream to cut himself back in, “And we are grateful for their assistance. I get the impression you wish to join them?”

 

“I don't wish to joi-!” Wait, no, _that’s_ exactly what he’s trying to say. He thinks.  “Well, by ‘join’ you mean participate?”

 

“I meant it as in _you_ wish to help us with the restoration efforts?”

 

A beat. “I...yes, I wish to help. If you allow it, that is.  I-I don’t know in what way I could at the moment due to my current condition, but I’m sure you could find me something until I’m in better health.”

 

Yes, that was it. He wanted to help! He wanted to help out of the goodness of his spark! It wasn’t an escape from the Autobots, but if he did his part perhaps they’ll go easy on him. Worst case scenario is if he can rally the Vehicons and other Decepticons on his side, he could pull the rug from under them and break free from their clutches.

 

Yes, the perfect plan!

 

Starscream was released from his thoughts from Magnus’ hum. “It’s something to consider.”

 

“ _Wait_ , **what?** ” Bulkhead’s optics appeared as they were about to pop out of his helm. “Ultra Magnus, sir, not to come across as second guessing your judgement but you can’t be serious!?”

 

Magnus turned to face the heavy. “Your concern, soldier?”

 

“ _My_ concern is staring us right in the face! Please don’t tell me you buy that ‘I want to help’ scrap?! You can’t trust a word Starscream says!”

 

“And your concern is duly noted. As I said, it’s something to consider,” He then glared back to Starscream. “If he’s being sincere in his want to assist.”

 

Okay, maybe _not the most_ perfect plan. The Autobots weren’t **that** naive.

 

“I’m _completely_ sincere regardless if you wish to believe my plea or not. This is just as much as my home as yours.” He partially lied. At least in regard of wanting to help them.

 

He was nothing but sincere about wanting to see Cybertron flourish again. It was _his_ home! It was _all_ their home but he feared what they’ll do to it. Not the Prime’s little rag tag team, but outside their group. The ones that will hold the power to shape the future.

 

They can’t expect the losing side to just follow their laws now that the war is over and the Autobots won? No, the Decepticons aren’t just going to form a circle and sing peace ballads. If the Autobots do anything they deem out of line, they’ll fight back and fight back **hard**! Pits, he wholeheartedly expects, even without provoking, a good share would start rioting and with no leadership or direction, it’ll only intensify. 

 

Depending who’s calling the shots, they’ll all be thrown in prison. Even if they peacefully protested against the governing power decisions, they’ll still be accused of restarting hostiles. Why, it wouldn’t surprise him if a de facto caste system was put in place in order to ‘keep the peace’. 

 

Starscream kept his concerns to himself this time around, however. He was too lost in his own thoughts to notice Ultra Magnus addressing Ratchet and making his leave, only for him to be bought back from the _clank_ of metal being moved around in his ‘cell’. 

 

He laid on his side with his front facing the wall and his non teared wing on his back draping off the berth. His attempt to drown out the noise failed, screeching though his audials. He turned his helm as curiously got to him, watching the two mechs finally lay down the machine.

 

“What’s with the fan anyways?” The seeker recalled Bulkhead lifting the huge thing when he first entered and remaining to butt into whatever business he and his commander were discussing. Why Ultra Magnus valued this idiot’s opinion on his fate annoyed him to no end. What say does he have in it? If he kept his lip plate shut, perhaps Magnus wouldn’t second guess his motives.

 

...That’d be just wishful thinking. The Autobot commander was no fool, unlike _some_ mechs here.

 

Ratchet’s optics finally meant his as he picked up the fan’s cord. “I said I had your best interest in mind, did I? It’s probably not the same as being up in the sky, but hopefully the feeling of airflow on your wings will help to some capacity.”

 

Starscream scoffed at the very idea.  “As if a fan can make up for flight.” He turned his helm back to the wall.

 

“I _said_ help, _not_ replace,” The medic remarked, “As much as you hate to hear it, it’ll be a while until we can even start reconstruction on your wing. That doesn’t mean we can’t find an alternative in the meantime.”

 

Bulkhead leaded in closer to Ratchet and whispered in his audials. “Are you serious about giving back his wings, Doc?”

 

“Like it or not Bulkhead,” The medic addressed him in a normal tone, “We need to put our grudges aside. _All_ of us.” Ratchet didn’t look at the seeker, but he didn’t need to. Starscream knew by _all_ , this was aimed at him as well. Finally, he plugged in the cord, fan blowing at full strength. “There, that should do it. Anyways, I have other duties I need to attend to. Someone should check back on you in a few joors. You...already know what advice I’m going to give you. Perhaps you should follow it for once.”

 

Starscream didn’t say anything. With that, Ratchet and Bulkhead left and locked the door behind them, leaving the seeker to return to the isolation of his mind. 

 

As much as he hated to admit it, the fan greatly helped. The breeze on the tip of his wings helped ease his tension to some capacity. It wasn’t the same as the wind felt when flying among the skies in alt mode, but it was _something_.

 

He was running out of options. The Autobots planned to keep him locked up here forever and whatever bargaining chips he had were quickly shot down. And to think Ultra Magnus though just because he asked nicely, he’d comply to his demands? He couldn’t negotiate with the Autobot commander neither as he gathered from their little chat.

 

And for the case for Ratchet: He didn’t buy his ‘best interest in mind’ speech neither. Why would he go out of his way to nurse someone from the otherside of the battlefield back to health? Medic’s Oath his aft: There's a catch. There's _always_ a catch. 

 

Still, he was stuck at a standstill. What was he to do now? He played all his cards and-

_Wait._

 

Starscream thought back earlier when Ultra Magnus first entered his room and his conversation with the two wheeler.

 

_A groundbridge?_

 

They _had_ a working groundbridge on site!? Why, that may just be his ticket out of this mess! 

 

...But, where was this groundbridge? He couldn’t ask without being suspect and wasn’t in the best health neither to randomly be snooping around searching for it. Pits, escaping this very room was going to be a feat! 

 

What were the chances of him pulling _any of this_ off?

 

_..I have to try…_

 

* * *

 

 

Ultra Magnus thought back to his past conversation as he strolled down the hospital's bare halls. He managed to set up a little office for himself once he was able to stand on his pedes again, a quiet place where he could take a moment to think about the cycles ahead and plan the next stages of reconstruction.

 

Ratchet summed up the seeker perfectly: A piece of work. Even when cuffed and jailed, Starscream still acted like he was in charge. Flaunting his self grandeur in a failed attempt at dominance, making commands on the fly that he had to be too delusional to believe anyone here would abide to. He made himself up only for his ego to crumble on top of him. 

 

It was a sad act to watch but he’ll give Starscream this: He was resilient for a mech who’s been through the worst the Pits had to throw at him. You had to be in the field of command.

 

They shared the same rank in their respectful factions; both having to carry the weight of their men on their shoulders as they faced the brutal heat of the battlefield, taking the risk most wouldn’t dare to and putting their lives out in the open and if not careful, for the taking. 

 

They may have had different methods in the way they commanded said armies, but they were both soldiers though and though. It was this that made him respect the seeker just as much as he pitied him. At least Magnus was lucky enough to stand on equal footing with his former superior officer. He didn’t know the exact extent of Megatron’s abuse, but he could only imagine what toll it took on his second in command along the rest of the Decepticon army. He may have been charismatic, rallying his troops and feeding them the drive they needed to fight on, but a military commander he was not. If anything, Megatron put his army in more danger than one.

 

Starscream would indeed be a valuable asset if he was being truthful in his want to help, but he was just as known of being two faced. Bulkhead had every right to question him: There was no doubt that the seeker had some ulterior motive behind the mask he made for himself. 

 

He thought back to what Optimus would have done. The Prime was optimistic, shining a light when it was needed in a time of darkness and saw the good in all mechs, regardless of the crimes they committed or the past they worn on their sleeve. 

 

But Magnus wasn’t Optimus. He could never be nor would he want to be but he did make the attempt to view the world in the late Prime’s lense. Perhaps he was far too old or too pessimistic to believe that one could simplity change. He's many things, but forgiving? Believing in that possible the worst of people should get a second chance?

 

He was released from his thoughts when he heard the sound of engines roaring down the hall leading to the outside. Ultra Magnus stop and turned to its direction once catching the two sports cars in view. The red planted one slid to a halt before entering root mode as the yellow and black was not too far behind him

 

“Eat my dust, Bee!”

 

Bumblebee followed suit once he was at a complete stop, venting heavily before huffing, “You won for the fourth time in a row!” He heard Knock Out let out a proud sounding hum in agreement. _Of course_ he’d brag about it. Smug bastard. “It wouldn’t kill you to go a little easy on me for once, Knock Out.”

 

“A _little_ easy?” The older mech flashed him a smug smile, “Come now, It’s not like I’m _not_ playing fair."

 

"When do you play fair?"

 

"Well _I_ sure didn't cheat. Not my fault you can’t keep up with my speed. Besides, you’re the one who insisted on a ree _eoOoh scrap!_ ”

 

“What?” It didn’t take long for the other mech to pick up on Knock Out’s hesitation as his optics widened in surprise. “Ultra Magnus!” Bumblebee tensely saluted his commander, “Good to see you back in shape again.”

 

“It’s good to see you two as well,” Ultra Magnus addressed them with his usual stern demeanor. “May I ask what you both have been upto?”

 

“ _Um,_ ” The yellow speeder was still attempting to collect his thoughts before addressing him, “Me and Knock Out were just scouting the area, sir.”

 

“Scouting, huh?” The two quickly picked up that their commander didn’t buy the excuse. Not one bit. Magnus’ optics glared over to the red mech beside his colleague. “Well, I assume everything is in the all clear then?”

 

Knock Out flitched when Magnus put him under the spotlight. His frame became rigid as he straightened his posture. “Um, yeah, yeah everything is good out their Big Blu- _I mean_ Ultr- **I mean,** **_sir!_ ** ” 

 

The blue mech optics’ lingered on the ex-Decepticon a bit longer before turning his attention back to the younger mech. “Honestly, I expected better from you Bumblebee. I didn’t think you’d be tempted by reckless endeavors.”

 

Bumblebee didn’t say anything for a few klits. He took notice of Knock Out rolling his optics but said nothing of it. “If it’s of any consolation sir; I was the one who insisted on going out for a race, not Knock Out. If anything, I'm at fault and It won’t happen again.”

 

The Autobot commander nodded. “I do hope not. As much as I appreciate your forthcomingness Bumblebee, that doesn’t change the fact you should have known better. _That_ you _both_ should have.” He didn’t hesitate to give Knock Out another gaze to drive home that this applied _especialty_ to him. All he received in reply was silence and an unpalatable glare back.

 

“Anyways, you both are doing inventory today. We need to keep track and better organize our rations. Get as much done as you can and then report to me by the end of the cycle.” And with that, Magnus gave a salute as Bumblebee returned the gesture. Knock Out just stood there unimpressed. 

 

Once the commander was out of earshot and far from view, Knock Out frustratingly let out a long drawn out whistle. “Well, someone has a stick up his aft.”

 

This only had the younger mech shake his helm. “Ultra Magnus is just trying to keep everything afloat. He means well.” Bumblebee started to walk down the halls as Knock Out paced alongside him.

 

“Yeah, sure, Big Blue is in charge and I respect that but you saw how he was glaring daggers at me. Likely blames me for your ' _corrupt’_ behavior.”

 

That gotten a light chuckle out of Bumblebee. ”I think it’s me keeping _your_ corrupt behavior in check. He doesn’t trust you yet. You can’t expect that to happen overnight?”

 

Knock Out gave a bitter snort. “Yeah, well, it’s not like he's the only one who doesn’t trust me yet.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t like you weren’t on the other side of the battlefield not too long ago. Give it time Knock Out, they’ll warm up to you.”

 

“You make it out as if my problem is making friends. I can’t give a scrap if anyone likes me or not, let alone respects me. I’m use to being second class but for all you ‘Bots go on about giving a mech another chance, you sure do criminalize someone for trying their best. I’ve been following every order and task given to me. And before that I whacked Starscream with the _Primus forsaken_ Immobilizer so we could stop Unicron from devolvering Cybertron!? If that enough hasn’t provided loyalty, I don’t know what does!”

 

Bumblebee rose an eyeridge. “For someone who says he doesn’t care what others think of him, you’re getting pretty up in arms about it. Was complaining about every little thing on the Nemesis Starscream's and your’s favorite hobby?”

 

“Oh look, the bug is capable of biting back,” Knock Out played himself as it was all in good humor but deep down he was more offended that he lead on. Not to mention inserting Starscream into the conversation only made it feel as if salt was being poured into the wound. “Well if you want to be _technical:_ It was more Starscream bitching about everything and me being forced to play shrink. Wasn’t like there was anyone else up to the task so I took one for the team. Not that I didn’t push him away neither…”

 

While the Nemesis wasn’t the kindest of environments, there was a sense of nostalgia thinking back to the time he was stationed there. The medic would be lying to himself if he didn’t miss the times when him and his commander strolled down the halls sharing gossip and airing grievances over a cube of high grade that he seldom wished not to drink alone. Sure, it was more Starscream airing _his_ grievances and him just listening and nodding his helm in agreement but it was something. Anything to drown out the loneliness he was feeling for months on end after Breakdown’s tragic demise.

 

The seeker made fair company for what it was worth and even enjoyed their chats, regardless how irksome Starscream could become at times (which was about **all** the times) but it could never replace what he once had with his late partner. 

 

It wasn’t a friendship, not really. Both used each other for their own selfish desires to fill in a void that wouldn’t have been otherwise. Maybe there was _some kind_ of camaraderie between them. Knock Out understood the seeker better than anyone else but that didn’t matter now. 

 

Any form of bond the two had was thrown out the window once the grounder made the move against him. There was nothing left to rekindle and Starscream made it clear that any attempt at it would be a waste of time. Knock Out didn’t want or need his forgiveness or would he have expected the seeker to give him his in return. That chapter in their book was closed with no reason for rewrites.

 

And that was all just peachy with him. 

 

“Well,” Bumblebee chirped, releasing Knock Out from his thoughts, “At least I’m getting a taste of what it was like for you.”

 

The red mech glared at him dumbfounded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Oh, nothing.” He had a playful smirk on his lip plate, rolling his optics but didn’t wish to elaborate otherwise. The red mech didn’t retort back but still held some scorn. 

 

The two continued to trek down the halls as they entered another section of the hospital where they stored inventory and housed the Vechicons.

 

The building had _way more_ than enough space that Team Prime only used a fraction of it. The medic remembered hearing the former soldiers rave about how more open and ‘luxurious’ it was compared to the barracks they slept in when stationed back on the Nemesis. Suppose he can’t blame them for believing it was a step up. They never were allowed personal belongings or any form of privacy, working long hours with only given enough free time to recharge and refuel. But now, they had a new form of freedom. Groups of two or three choosing their own berthroom space and all shared a common living quarters for them to spend their off hours doing whatever they pleased.

 

The atmosphere was heavy with a joyful optimism and playful laugher as the Vechicons were lounging around sharing gossip or playing old relics of Cybertroian board games they managed to salvage from the Nemesis. When they walked by, plenty of them took the time to stop themselves from their activities at the sight of Bumblebee, only for the young mech to greet them back cheerfully.

 

Out of all the Autobots they latched on to, Bumblebee ended up being the one popular among them. Any complaints, grievances or issues were taken up with him as opposed to Bulkhead or Ultra Magnus as they formed a kinship hardly anyone expected. Suppose it made sense they would though: Both were Sparked, regardless the means, during wartime. It was all the life they ever knew but Bee’s optimism and cheerful emustism was something that gave them a sense of hope that they could too intergate peacefully into Cybertron’s new society. Knock Out couldn’t lie to himself that the young bot rubbed a bit off him when he didn’t feel suffocated by his buoyancy. 

 

Bee meant well but sometimes his disposition was a bit too much for the other to digest. But at least he was one of the few in Team Prime who seemed to make the former ‘Con feel welcomed.

 

That didn’t stop the medic from overhearing whispers and gossip of distrust, even more so with the former Air Commander now in the Autobot’s custody. A handful were still loyal to the Decepticon chain of command, even if Megatron _himself_ said it was all over. He couldn’t help but find it sad that there were those who still wished to serve under his tyranny once more.

 

Knock Out had no desire to report any of it though. A tiny group of unsatisfied Vechicons was barely anything to get up in arms about. Sure, they may try to break out their beloved Commander but if they still wish to entertain Starscream’s delusional dream of conquest, by all means. All they’ll be doing is throwing away the free pass Team Prime offered them. Once a government is finally up and running, other ‘Cons won’t get that privilege.

 

“Knock Out!? There you are!” 

 

Both faced the direction to where they heard the cherry mech’s name called out, only to see Ratchet trot down the halls to approach them quicker.

 

“I was looking all over for you,” Ratchet addressed him in his usual tone once he finally caught up to the two, “I have some... _worries_ to address in regard to the medical files you transferred over to me.”

 

Knock Out tilt his head slightly to his side. “Oh no, what trouble have I gotten myself into this time?” He joked.

 

The older medic huffed unamused in response. “Sorry I have to break you out of your bad boy persona but this isn’t about you this time. I finished reading over all of Starscream’s medical history and other examination notes I wrote when I was fixing him. I noticed there was a plenty of old internal damage.”

 

“Well, _that’s_ going to happen when you’ve been slammed to the ground by prehistoric-”

 

“No, this damage is even _older_ than that! _Much_ older!”

 

This only made Knock Out flitched. “Oh. Yeah, well, that must have come as a surprise.”

 

Ratchet’s optics widen from how causal he responded. “You knew about this, did you?”

 

“...I _may_ have, and what of it?”

 

“And you thought none of it?!”

 

“Well he’s _still_ functioning, is he?” Still he could gather the old coot wasn’t pleased by his answer. He gave a frustrated groan. “Okay, yeah, sure; I may of backhanded a few of his less concerning medical needs but it’s not like Megatron would have authorized me to fix every nook and cranny!”

 

“That’s **not** an excuse!”

 

“You’ve never served under Megatron. You **don’t** go against _his_ orders! I think the Herr Kommandant plays a good example of what happens when you do. That and unlike you who only had a small rag tag team to worry about, I had _an_ army to keep up to snuff! Couldn’t be too generous on giving out our valued limited resources on full repairs.” Knock Out rolled his optics. “Besides, Starscream is a tough old bird. If he managed to stay online with a few missing or broken pieces even before I joined the Nemesis crew, I don’t see the need to cry over it now.”

 

Ratchet gave an irritated sigh. Even if he did see some sense in his reasoning didn’t mean he liked it, however. “Even if you had **the** **whole** planet under your care still doesn't mean you should let these things go uncheck. They can cause even more complications down the road and it wouldn't shock me if he's in even worse shape than I originally thought." He shook his helm. "It’s a medic’s oath to give the best care in the best way possible. That’s one of the first things you learn at the medical academy.” 

 

All of a sudden, the younger medic became tense. “...Oh, yeah, the _good ol’ medical academy_. I sure remember them saying something like that but hey, ya know, it’s been, well, vorns since...well, medical academy…”

 

“That's not something you easily forget. Honestly, How did you even manage to graduate is be-” he cut himself off. Picking up on Knock Out’s strange behavior, a red flag rang in his head. Finally his processor gathered all the cues and his face swiftly formed a horrified look.

 

“... _Oh Primus_ , help me," He rubbed his temple in distress, " _Please_ tell me you were in the medic guild before the war? I pray for my sanity otherwise?”

 

 _Oh scrap_ . Knock Out nervously rubbed the back of his helm before responding. “ _Yeah_ , about that…”

 

“Wait,” Bumblebee entered the conversation wearing the same expression as Ratchet’s, “You _aren’t_ a **real** doctor?!”

 

“Define _real_.” The other said dryly.

 

             "There's _nothing_ to define, Knock Out, I-" Ratchet had to calm himself before stringing together the rest of his sentence. "You told me you were qualified?! I let you operate even! I-"

 

" _I am_ qualified! Just because I wasn't official sanctioned doesn't mean I'm not capable of doing my job."

 

"Apparently you're confusing qualified with adequate."

 

Knock Out bitterly snorted. "Yeah, well not every mech can be lucky enough to walk out of The Well with their dream job. It's not like I didn't have vorns to learn the trade, even if it was though trial and error." He paused and nervously vented before he continued. " _A lot_ of error, but when you throw a blackmarket chop shop modder a mech who’s barely hanging on to his dear life in the middle of a war and told ‘fix him’, you find ways to adapt.”

 

“Oh, you were involved in criminal activity too, that’s _even_ better!” 

 

“Hey now, I think criminal may be too strong of a word but that aside: Are you really _that_ surprised?” Knock Out inquired.

 

Ratchet went silent. No, he _shouldn't_ have been surprised by this revelation _in the slightest_. 

 

“Believe it or not, non certified doctors were the norm in the Decepticons. Most of the more qualified medics were on the side that didn’t have questionable morals. Had to take what you were given.” the cherry mech shook his head before darting his optics back at the other. “Well, what now, now knowing my deepest _and_ darkest secret? Gonna arrest me fraud charges? Knock a few points off my report card?”

 

The older medic just huffed frustationally. “No. But I am going to run you down some basic training protocols. The Decpecticons may have gave more -- _leeway_ on how they ran things, but being your an Autobot now your gonna need to relearn how procedures work _our way_ before I see you fit for duty again. Your skilled enough that you should breeze though that quickly.” Ratchet sounded a bit unsure of himself after saying the last bit. “It’ll really just come down to ethics than anything else, I’m sure…”

 

Knock Out was taken back from his answer, let alone the calmness of it. “I didn’t think you’d be so forgiving of my controversial past.”

 

“I think you said it better yourself: Qualified medics are hard to come by these days with how baren Cybertron is at the moment and if I’m gonna be having you take over in my sted, I’d like to know that you’re well prepared. I recommend not mentioning your condecales with the rest of the team however.”

 

“So, you’ll be returning back to Earth soon then?” Bumblebee asked. He didn’t seem all that fazed about Ratchet saying Knock Out taking over his role once he did, which did make the red mech a bit at ease. It means trust, something most of his cohorts didn’t have for him yet. Though he heed Ratchet’s advice about sharing his history with the others. He believed Bumblebee would keep silent on the matter as well. 

 

“Eventually. There are still some things I need to address here first before returning. And there's the matter of _someone_ that apparently can’t get along well enough with the other medic on staff.”

 

“Oh please,” The ex Decepticon fought back from rolling his optics, “Starscream can suck it up and I’m more than capable of dealing with him at his worst. Don’t see why we can’t just throw him back out after he’s all patched up. What harm could that do if he has basically nothing? Better than having him locked up here whining us to death waiting on the word of law. Whenever that’d happen...”

 

The older mech sighed. “We’ve been in talks about that actually. Well, Bumblebee and I have but we plan on bringing it up to Ultra Magnus for his opinion. He may be more open to it after the little chat he had with our guest went earlier.”

 

This only had Knock Out quirked an eyebrow in both confusion and curiously. “ _Meaning_ …?”

 

“Well, obviously a proper jurisdiction system isn’t going to happen anytime soon and with Cybertron reborn, we have a chance of starting anew. Bumblebee suggested we have things come down to a vote.”

 

“A vote?”

 

Bumblebee continued where Ratchet left off, “As in what we plan to do with Starscream. We’re narrowing it down to two choices: Either we keep him locked up and wait on a trial or…”

 

“ _Or_?”

 

“... Or if we give him the option of helping us rebuild. Like a parole I suppose. That way he’s still paying his due but given the chance to work in exchange for a possible released of all charges down the line.”

 

Knock Out’s features formed into a strange mix match of perplexed to out right disgust. “You’re joking, right?”

 

“...I’d thought you’d be glad to hear the news.”

 

“Why would I be-” It then clicked. “Oh, _I see_. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t care what his fate ends up being. If you ask me, he’s getting his just desserts.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to offend you, Knock Out.”

 

“Who said I’m offended? I’m just stating facts.”

 

“Right, um,” Bumblebee was having a hard time putting the right words together in response. Eventually he said, “Sorry, I just got the impression that you two were once close.”

 

“Close?” Knock Out snorted, “If you mean by being used and manipulated for one's own ends and used as a personal punching bag to let out your aggressions, sure. Starscream doesn’t make friends. I’m very sure he’s incapable of being or holding on to one to be begin it. You’d be making a grave mistake of giving him a chance to redeem himself.”

 

“We gave you a chance,” Bumblebee piped.

 

“That’s different, _I_ proved myself!”

 

“Yeah but you were allowed the chance to. Starscream never was.”

 

 “Oh yeah, let’s give that a test run then and see what happens! C’mon Bee, don’t tell me you believe he can be changed though a good behavior system? This is Starscream we’re talking about! I know him better than anyone here so believe me when I say that it’d be a complete waste of time and will cost us in the long run!” He laughed. “Picture him losing all his gold stars if he _really_ screws up.”

 

“Knock Out is sort of right Bumblebee,” Ratchet added onto the other’s concerns.

 

“Sort of? I’m _completely_ right!”

 

“Yes, but,” Ratchet took a long deep vent before continuing, “The Vehicons have shown that they’re just as tired of fighting as we are, and I’m sure that doesn’t apply only to them. There are plenty of Decepticon soldiers who didn’t view the battlefield as another gladiator arena. Look how history played out. If we don’t learn from it we are bound to repeat it. Dare I say it but I get the impression Starscream isn’t blind to that neither, regardless of his... _quirks._ He’s many things but he isn’t stupid.”

 

“I’m sorry, are my audio receptors deceiving me?” Knock Out said sarcastically as he flicked one of his fins, “But did you just defend _Starscream_ of all mechs?”

 

“Hardly, but if we don’t attempt to strive for peace, war will only continue. Both sides have a choice to make, deserving of it or not.”

 

“That’s not much of a reason in my opinion.”

 

“Maybe not to you but Optimus once said that everyone has the capability of change. It’d be a disservice to him for his sacrifice to go in vain and not mean anything in the end. All I know it’ll all play out as a huge mess and we’ll be forced to clean up if things go down the Pits, but I know what he would have wanted. The best we can do is follow his example.”

 

“You’re all so casual about following Optimus’ example like *you really know what he would have wanted? You can’t speak for a mech who’s dead.” Knock Out shook his helm. “Besides, I _didn’t_ know Optmus like the rest of you did. Saying ‘follow his example’ doesn’t hold the same weight as it would for the rest of you.”

 

“No but you have heard his speech,” Ratchet said. “That should give you a general idea of what he stood for. He was speaking just as directly at you as he was for the rest of us. The fact that you thought of someone’s well being outside of yourself for once proves his words have gotten to you.”

 

Knock Out huffed. “In highsight I should have just left him to bleed out,” he mumbled under his breath. He never fully understood why Optimus was so quick to accept him. Or perhaps he did know, but refused to believe he was worthy of it. 

 

What good did he truly do? Sure, he helped Team Prime save Cybertron but he still joined their ranks in self preservation. And before that he had no problem cheating and taking every opportunity given to him within self interest or survival, even tortured poor mechs to get what he wanted if it came down to it. 

 

Even now he was being selfish, acting as if he should have left Starscream to die even if Optimus would have wanted otherwise. The fact that the Autobots were possibility willing to give the air commander the opportunity to change his life around as they were to him filled him with anger, or perhaps jealousy, he didn’t quite understand where it grew from.  

 

 _He doesn’t deserve that!_ he thought, but perhaps he didn’t either.

 

He was scrap. He always was scrap. Didn’t matter what his affiliation was now or then, or what good was in him: It was all an act of self interest. Or at least gain the approval of those around him if it meant to survive. The only mech Knock Out was willing to stop everything for and accepted him for who he was suppose to what he wanted others to see him as was long gone. Just reminding himself of Breakdown had him swallow down so he didn’t choke up. 

 

With that in mind, Knock Out wasn’t sold on the rest of the older mech’s reasoning. “It’s naive thinking to believe there's good in everyone. It’ll only lead to disappointment in the end.” 

 

Ratchet frowned. “I’m not trying to make a believer out of you Knock Out, I’m just giving my thoughts on the matter. Perhaps it’d be a mistake to give Starscream or any other Decepticon a chance but if we have them all prosecuted just for wearing the Brand, it’d look horrible on our part and wouldn’t do us any favors. Plenty of those mechs did truly believe they were fighting for good intentions and the betterment of Cybertron, regardless if their methods were sound or the way Megatron perverted there cause.”

 

“Do I even get a say in this ‘vote’? Or do I have to sit on the sidelines due to my probation period not being up yet?”

 

“Everyone will Knock Out, including you. You’re part of the team now, remember.” Bumblebee gave him a playful nudge before returning his attention back to the older medic. “It’s good you aren’t leaving so fast Ratchet.” He cheerfully smiled. “We’d miss having you around.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Knock Out quietly leaned in to say to Bumblebee, receiving another nudge only this time out of annoyance and a little rougher. He couldn’t help but give the other an irritated look down. “Hey, just because we’re chummy now doesn’t mean you can get all handsy! Keep your servos to yourself.” Even if there wasn’t any bad intent behind the other’s teasing, that didn’t mean anyone had the right to touch him! And that’s not just because he feared for his finish.

 

“Oh,” The younger mech appeared embarrassed of his actions, “I didn’t realize I was crossing my boundaries. Sorry Knock Out.”

 

“It’s fine, just...just don’t do it again.” He came out harsher than it should have, but he wasn’t worried about the younger mech taking offense. Bee was a forgiving mech. “Anyways, I believe Big Blue gave us orders.”

 

“Oh, right, I forgot about that!” Bumblebee acclimated. “We should probably do that before Ultra Magnus thinks we’re slacking off again.”

 

Knock Out returned to smiling mischiefly. “Well, _I wouldn’t_ say our little run was slacking off. That would imply we were sitting around doing nothing...”

 

Ratchet sighed as he rubbed his temple. “Please tell me you two didn’t go off racing again?”

 

“... _um_ , maybe a _quick_ one.”

 

“Bee suggested it. For once, I’m _not_ the bad influence.”

 

The medic bitterly snorted. “Knock Out, regardless of what you do, you'll always be a bad influence.”

 

“Ouch. Still think that little of me?”

 

 “You’re supposed to be the mature mech in this scenario. There's a word out there that you could have said to Bumblebee’s suggestion. Perhaps you heard of it: It’s called ‘no’..."

 

* * *

 

 

A few joors passed. Starscream would have been tapping his talons impatiently on the closes hard surface if his wrist weren’t in cuffs. 

 

When were they going to check up on him again?! If it wasn’t for his need for escape, he’d rather never see any of their faces again but that’s a luxury he couldn’t afford (or be given).

 

He had a few possible scenarios brewed up in his mind for whoever ends up entering through that door, hoping to use their weakness to his advantage. 

 

Arcee would likely be ordered to stay away after what happened earlier, and he knew it was unlikely that one of the Vehicons would be the ones to serve his second meal of the day for obvious reasons. Any one of the Wreckers would be a disaster, and just being alone with that oaf Bulkhead could be a death sentence. That’d only left Ratchet, the scout or the new recruit.

 

He heard the _click_ of the door. Speaking of the devil…

 

“Alright, ‘Screamer,” Smokescreen greeted him, holding a full cube of Energon between the side of his chassis and arm. The seeker only gave a irritably groan in response to _that_ little annoying nickname they seemed so fond of calling him. The Autobot didn’t react to his disdain however, shutting the door behind him. “Listen, I’m just here to give you your meal and then I’ll be off. I’m not here to start anything and I’m sure you don’t either.”

 

The seeker didn't say anything, he only studied the young mech's body language and calm demeanor. He was being surprisingly pleasant. He completely expected Smokescreen to be his insufferably cocky stuff. Starscream still never gotten over the fact _this child_ outplayed him, using the Phaseshifter to push him out of the Apex Armor, robbing him of yet another trumpet card and a humiliating defeat.

 

"Not in a talkative mood today? Fine by me." He shrugged before walking up to Starscream's berth but made sure to keep his distance, both as a precaution and minding the other space. "Anyways, here you go." Smokescreen laid the cube down right next to him and then took a step back. It was then the seeker took notice of the younger mech's wrist…

 

 _The Phaseshifter_.

 

Why was that fool still wearing that device!? Did he not learn his lesson when Knock Out trapped him between the Nemesis’ walls that wearing such a device casually off the battlefield would leave an opening for-

 

... _for_ _the enemy to take advantage of._

 

 _Well then_. A wicked sneer stretched across both ends of his face. And of course, the other quickly took notice.

 

“Oh no, you’re smiling,” Smokescreen said as he pushed his frame off the wall by the door he was leading on, “That’s never a good sign.”

 

“Pardon?” The seeker was confused for a second before he got his thoughts together. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think there was a law against smiling?”

 

“Well, not if it’s that signature _creepy_ smile you do when you have a light bulb flicker on and off in your processor. Did I meantion creepy...”

 

Starscream was surprised he even picked up on his supposed tells. He wasn’t **that** easily readable, was he? “Being stuck in a closet all day leaves you with few entertainment options. Dare I say musing over nostalgia is the only way I can pass the time. Is that a crime?” He acted as if they were just having a casual conversation that held just a bit of bite. He didn’t even eye Smokescreen when speaking. It was both for the added effect of reminding him how insignificant the other was in his optics and to hold himself back from eyeing the prize he hoped to receive if he played his cards right. 

 

The young bot was naive, but not stupid. Hopefully he wouldn’t put two and two together if he acted as if he wasn’t aware of his signature weapon and played himself naturally.

 

Smokescreen just stared him down questionably, but backhanded the thought he was up to something even if he kept his guard up. He may be cocksured that the seeker couldn’t fight back due to his injuries, but this still was Starscream. The slagger had no problem using every dirty trick in the book to his advantage. “No, I suppose not.” 

 

Starscream sat up as he leaned his back against the wall, picking up the cube with his talons. Fight as he may, he was hungry so he might as well act the part. 

 

He took his first sip, only for his glossa’s sensors to be welcomed to what was the strong bitter tang of low grade Energon. His faceplate lit up with disgust as he attempted to swallow the liquid, burning down his intake. It took him a moment to purge the aftertaste from his senses. “This Engron is hardly refined!”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s been what we’ve all been drinking the last solar cycles,” Smokescreen acclimated as he shrugged, “Beggars can’t be choosers, ‘Screamer.”

 

An irritated growl. “First off: It’s _STAR_ scream! Secondly: I’m no fool! It wouldn’t surprise me if you Autobots have been hogging the higher quality for yourself. Can’t have you sharing your precious rations to everyone, hm?”

 

“Hey, if you don’t want to take my word for it, ask Ratchet or Ultra Magnus. Or the Vehicons. They’ll give you the same answer.”

 

Starscream gave a sicken sounding groaned as he rolled his optics. He pushed the cube aside with his pedes to very tip of his berth, only paying enough attention to it to make sure it didn’t fall. “I lost my appetite.”

 

“ _Geez_ , you’re like a fussy Newspark!” Still, he didn’t protest further. “Anyways, if you aren't going to refuel, I’ll take that cube back for someone who isn’t going to whine about not being served a high class meal…”

 

“ _Please do_. I’m getting nausea just looking at it.”

 

Smokescreen rolled his optics as he strolled over to the berth. “At least this meeting was short,” He shrugged, taking grasp of the cube before turning to the door. “Anyways, sweet dreams ‘Screamer.”

 

Wait, he was leaving?! No, he can’t leave so soon, not without snatching that device from him first. That was his E Ticket and it was so close in his grasp. He’ll likely never get another opportunity like this.

 

Quick, think of something!

 

Before Smokescreen could scan his key card into the lock, he heard a loud _thump_ from behind him. He turned around, optics being met with the seeker’s.

 

Starscream hissed through chetched denta, cursing to himself as he rolled on the cold floor. The younger mech remained where he stood as he stared down at him.

 

 “Um, Starscream, wh?-”

 

“ _The pain_ , oh! I-I think the pain killer wore off! Scrap, _it hurts_!”  He continued to howl in agony only for Smokescreen to appear not all that convinced.

 

Seriously, was he really doing the whole _‘I’m sick’_ act? He can’t think he’s stupid to fall for that. But Smokescreen couldn’t help but find some humor in it if this was truly all Starscream had got.

 

“I’m sure you’re overreacting. Can’t be that-”

 

A loud cry and another hiss. “Does _this_ look like I’m overreacting to you!? Here I am on the ground begging for help and yo-GAAAHAHAH!” Starscream pathetically wept as his frame tensed. “How could you be so insensitive!? I thought you Autobots-”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it, I get it,” The Autobot rose his hands over his chest in defeat as he approached him slowly. Perhaps he really was in pain. “Where does it hurt?”

 

“Right here, over my-” He fought to finish his sentence only for his mind to focus on the spasm that traveled all over his frame. The only think the seeker could do was plead with his optics. “Please, help me,” His voice was so strained that it was barely audible.

 

“Um, alright, _um_ ,” Smokescreen fought back his panic as he tried to process everything that was happening. “I-I’ll contact Ratchet, just hold on.” He knelt to the ground right beside the prisoner as he put a raised a servo to his helm and activated his comm link. “Hey, Doc, we have an emergency over at our _guest’s_ quarters.”

 

 _“Emergency?”_ Ratchet said in a ruffle on the other line, _“What’s wrong with him now?”_ He groaned.

 

“I don’t know, he’s complaining about being in pain and from the look of things: He’s not joking around. That or-”

 

Smokescreen was cut off by Starscream’s loud, painful groan.”Oh, _it hurts!!_ ”

 

“-or he’s just being a drama queen but it wouldn’t hurt to check up on him anyways, right…?”

 

The medic just sighed. _“I’ll be over there in a klik…”_

 

Once the other end of the comm went silent, the younger mech vented and glared down at Starscream. “Alright, he’s on his way ‘Screamer. Try to take it easy.”

 

The seeker glared at him with glass optics. “Thank you.” He said as he reached out to  Smokescreen’s servo and put his on top of the Plaseshifter, taking grip. Then he sneered. “I truly mean it.”

 

And with a quick twist of the device, it lit up blue as it activated. Smokescreen had no time to react between Starscream freeing it from his wrist to passing right through him. And then right though the floor. The seeker was taken by surprise and let out a fearful yelp, not at all prepared to fall a level below him. 

 

 Smokescreen heard him screeched, but didn’t see the other anywhere in his sight. He was still processing what just happened. It finally clicked, reacting for him to stare down at his bare wrist to see he no longer had the Phaseshifter tightly secured around it. 

 

The mech’s optics widened at the major error he made. Honestly, Smokescrean forgotten he was still wearing it. However what truly shattered his pride was that he _was stupid enough_ fell for Starscream’s act.

 

A huff. “...Scrap.”

 

* * *

 

 

Before he could phase though another level under him, Starscream managed to figure out how to work the device propularly. He twisted it off, only for his frame to hit the hard ground below him. He hissed from what was actually _real_ pain this time around but though none of it. He suffered worst afterall.

 

Starscream attempted to get back up on his pedes, only for him to lose his balance and his frame slammed against the nearest wall unable to keep it stable. He took advantage of it, being it made fair support as he leaned his frame among it and made every step count. 

 

It was still a challenge to keep himself upright as his joints remained too limber to stand proper.  He finally lost his footing and knelt to the ground, wings dropping down and slightly twitching in distress. Another hiss. His body ached. Perhaps the pain killer was wearing off?

 

“Scrap,” He mumbled under his breath. He knew his health would hinder his escape route, making his situation less of a walk in the park than it already was but he couldn’t linger either. That idiot more than likely already informed the other Autobots that he broke out of his cell. They’ll be storming the halls any klit, blocking his way to freedom when he was in no shape to fight back. 

 

They’ll easily overpower him and once they get their servos on him, he’ll only suspect that they’ll drop the hospitality act and treat him what he truly was in their eyes.

 

The seeker feared what they’ll put him though as punishment for his little heist if they captured him again…

 

_No_

 

...He won’t let them.

 

Getting back up, he fought against his frame and pushed forward. He used the Phaseshifter to move though room to room, hall to hall when needed. His escape was now a matter of outplaying the enemy in stealth. Thankfully, his wits was always his best weapon and that wasn’t in short supply. 

 

It was like a game of cat and mouse, avoiding obstacles and the Vechicons strolling the halls. Thankfully, they seemed out of the loop on what was going on. Or perhaps they did know and they’re going against the Autobot’s orders.

 

_Maybe there's hope for them after-_

 

“Attention all personnel,” Ultra Magnus’ voice bloomed through the halls via loudspeaker, catching the Vehicon’s attention. “Be on high alert, we have a prisoner on the loose!” 

 

_Of course…_

 

He sighed. No matter. He pushed on. 

 

Eventually, he got to his destination, clinging to the wall with his claws as he peeked into the room to make sure he was in the clear. Starscream then saw it.

 

_The groundbridge._

 

But that wasn’t the only thing he saw... 

 

By the controls was a lone Vechicon, his optics glued to the datapad in his grip as he casually leaning his frame on the control panel being mindful to not touch any thing by accident. It was strange. He acted as if he was unaware of the hospital was put on high alert. 

 

The seeker push those concerns aside. No matter, he had nothing to fear from one lone Vechicon. Along he didn’t make his presence known and worked swiftly, he could take him out before he could even realize what was going on. Even if his cuffs gave his servos limited movement, his talons were as sharp as ever.

 

He has done this before.

 

_I can do this._

 

He limped his way over to the control panel and spread out his talons as wide as he could.

 

_I CAN do this._

 

The Vehicon remained oblivious to the other’s presence as he continued to read off the datapad, letting out a humored chuckle in amusement. A moment later, Starscream was hovering over him and before he could pierce his claws deep into his victim’s back, the soldier finally broke his silence,

 

“So, where to Commander?”

 

 This only took Starscream off guard, arms still raised in the air as he stared down in confusion.

 

“They’ll be here any moment, sir, so you may want to leg it.”

 

As his bewilderments finally worn off, all the seeker had in response was smiling wickedly…

 

* * *

 

 

“One the Vechicons said he went down this way,” Bumblebee ran down the halls that lead to the groundbridge with Arcee, Smokescreen and two Vechicons right behind him. “Wouldn’t put it past me that he already activated it but hopefully we can catch him before he escapes all the way though.”

 

“This is my fault Bee, I let my guard down, I-”

 

“Don’t worry about that right now, Smokey, first we-”

 

The five slid to a stop at the sight of the Groundbridge winding down shut. And to their disappointment: Starscream was nowhere in sight

 

 _Scrap, came too late._ Bumblebee optics then saw the Vechicon at the controls, servo still on the lever.

 

 “Took you long enough.” He said calmly yet full of confidence. 

 

“St3v3, are you a fragging idiot,” One of the other two Vechicon’s said as he took a step forward, “Why did you let him go!?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I,” St3v3 glared both of his cohorts down as if his optics were fuming like fire. “Unlike you two, I know where my loyalties still lie. Frag if I’m gonna let the Autobots keep the Commander locked up for the rest of his life.” The Vechicon then took his glaze to greet Bumblebee. “He’s gone. Go after him if you want but I won’t sit by and let you destroy him further. If that means you having to arrest me, so be it.”

 

Arcee’s optics went from shock to annoyance to disgust in the span of seconds. She vented before facing Bumblebee. “I’ll go get Ultra Magnus and tell him what happened…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This chapter felt like it took forever but I am happy with the results. I may have gotten a little lazy near the end being I really wanted to get this out.
> 
> Anyways: I didn't get much comments on the last chapter and would really appreciate feedback as I go on. Not only does it show that there is interest and boosts my morale, but also helps me improve as a writer.
> 
> I got one more (or two if I choose to cut the two in half) after this before I put this fic on a hiatus so I can figure out where I want to take the story from plus focus on other projects that are also in desperate need for attention.
> 
> Until next time, loves.
> 
> ~SweetT


End file.
